


Love and war don't discriminate between nations

by Darkly_Adorable



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hermione is English, Romance, Ron is Italian, Running Away, Some light violence, Some mature themes, WWII AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkly_Adorable/pseuds/Darkly_Adorable
Summary: As a sufferer of W.W.2, Hermione tries to escape, when she unexpectedly meets a foreigner man, who's lost as well and needs her help, as she, too, needs his... Completely AU.





	1. The Man

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is one quite old story of mine- I wrote it like 7 years ago- and as I'm new to the site, I thought of posting some of my previous works while I'm struggling with quite a few ideas in my head... English is not my native language, neither are Italian and German. Please, feel free to leave comments- and enjoy!

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

_‘Help- please, help us!’_

_‘RUN!’_

_‘No! No my Steve, no…!’_

The town was deep through a chaos, something that no one could measure or even comprehend. People were screaming while dust was constantly into the air, poisoning the oxygen that people breathed and making the vision a torture that you couldn’t possibly break loose from. For the people in the town, the only so intact thing was their hearing, forcing them to listen to the others’ screams, cries, yells, to the unstoppable bang that were producing by the insane firing of guns, to the death that was so very existent in the atmosphere… War so very deep into people’s skin, and there was nothing to do to escape from its madness.

Hermione Granger ran without stopping through the numerous packs of people there were around her, trying madly to find a way out of the crowd, a way to mere, fragile freedom. She ran and ran and ran toward east, exerted herself to reach the bounds of the town, where people were fewer and escaping would be easier and painless- because she had to do this, she had to escape.

Passing across the crowd gradually became slightly easier and Hermione glanced around swiftly, attempting to find an exit, a minute path, a road to rebirth. Her eardrums were throbbing as painful sounds were stabbing them mercilessly, making her feel dizzy and nauseous, but she still kept on her unstoppable tries, her freedom only mattered at the time; but that only until she heard some cries stemming from nearby her- cries of a baby. Her heart stopped for a second and she looked around frantically, not wanting to leave a probably ditched child on their own.

She suddenly saw a little girl standing on her own between what it seemed to be total strangers to her, as she was crying hopelessly. She must have been three or four years old only, with wavy, long, sandy hair and wearing a teal-coloured dress- despite her pure prettiness, she looked so lost…

“Papa!” she heard the little girl crying desperately and Hermione immediately went near her- she couldn’t just leave her there, unprotected and alone, it would be just like a murder. She kneeled in front of the girl, who was still calling for her father, and she bravely took her tiny, slightly dirty face in her hands, trying to sooth her even for a tiny bit, even though she deep down knew that her mere efforts would be so fruitless…

“Ssh, my little, everything’s alright…” she tried to say with her rather cracked voice; the girl only cried more and started to shake quite violently.

“Papa, papa!” she only cried out through her hiccups, sobs and cries, her fearful, blue-grey eyes drown in tears and fright, as they glued on Hermione. “Papa!”

“We’ll find your dad, baby; I’ll help you, but can you please tell me your name?” Hermione asked gently and cautiously glanced around, afraid of anything unexpected or dangerous attacking them, as they weren’t in alarm. When she looked back at the little girl before her, she was only still crying. “Papa, papa, papa” she only repeated without answering the elder’s question. Hermione’s mind suddenly went to dreadful prospects and possibilities; possibilities of the girl’s father being lost, or even worse, been killed- it was something so sickly usual there… Hermione was desperate and quite unsure about what to do- how was she supposed to treat this little, lost child who was desperately asking for her father’s warmth?

She was about to take the girl and search for the father of hers or escape along with her, but she suddenly saw a tall figure coming from the crowd fast towards them, and kneeling in front of the girl, as well.

“Luna!” Hermione heard the voice from the figure- which Hermione recognized as a male’s one-, which was somewhat shaky and deep, yet light as well. “Mio Dio, Io trovato è, Luna!” the man kept going as he hugged tightly the girl, who hugged him back and closed her eyes tightly. Hermione observed the sight in front of her and she didn’t know what to make out of it- she just felt a tiny bit relieved that the child had found someone that she obviously felt well with. She saw the girl burying her face in the man’s chest and he bended his head near to hers and kissed it with his eyes firmly close; then he whispered something while his lips were against her head and then he finally opened his eyes again and swiftly turned his gaze from the little girl to her, making her feel a bit nervous as she was looking at this strange, huge and so beautiful pair of eyes.

“Grazie.” he said hoarsely towards her and then Hermione was confirmed that both of them were foreigners- she instantly shook her head.

“I don’t speak… Italian?” she said quite unsurely and looked at him a bit expectantly, waiting for some sort of answer. The man nodded with his head at once.

“Si, si, Io sono Italiano- Io… no… Inglese” he said hurriedly and he looked at Hermione with his glassy eyes full of fright and despair, almost like the little girl’s. Hermione thought for a moment what he said to her: he was from Italy… Even the mere thought made her shiver a bit, and she observed both of them for a moment. Her experience, her knowledge, her logic told her firmly not to trust him- there wasn’t room for guessing and trusting people who could possibly be with the enemy. But on the other hand, her intuition, her instincts, her heart told her that he wouldn’t hurt her- he was as a sufferer as she was, and that could be proved by the horror and lost that were evident in both their faces; she knew that they felt like she did.

“Come with me.” she said slowly and gestured with her hand towards herself, then showing him the way out of the living hell they were in. The young man stared at her with goggled eyes full of anguish, but a moment later, he nodded once numbly. He stood up instantly, never letting the girl from his arms- Hermione assumed they must have been some sort of family, siblings or something, maybe- and after kissing reassuringly her sandy hair, he said something in Italian, his voice underlying his worry, but he seemed to try to be strong for the little child, who buried herself deeper into his chest and arms.

“Follow me!” Hermione shouted to him, showing him with her index finger at herself, then at the narrow path they’d follow. The man looked at her with his enormous, so strangely innocent eyes, and then he nodded, staying as much as he could close to her. Hermione resumed her way away from the torture and suffering, every now and then making sure that the man with the baby was still following her. They reached the bounds of the city quite fast, even though the squeezing and the awareness to be protected, and Hermione instantly searched around the high walls for an exit, but the only gate existent seemed sealed. She started to get more and more anxious as the seconds were flowing, as the hope started to fade away… She was lost… And this baby, this man… They hadn’t done anything in their life- at least she was sure about the girl-, they were also lost…

“Signorina!” she heard the man’s voice from behind her, all of a sudden, and she turned her head to him, seeing him with a fretful, yet rather anticipated expression on his face.

“What is it?” she asked urgently, but he shook his head vividly as a response- he seemed like he couldn’t understand.

“Signorina, una uscita laggiù!” he exclaimed hurriedly with his perfect Italian; when he finally realized that Hermione couldn’t understand him, he thought about it for a moment before he stammered an unsure “ _F-Follow_ …” he most probably mimicked from her words before. When he was certain she knew, he guided her to the west side of the wall, until they reached a rather shadowy part of it, where there was a beige door on the stone wall- one that was almost unlikely to notice. He glanced at her before gesturing with his head, and after looking around warily, he opened the door with a bit of difficulty, letting Hermione to enter and then doing the same as well, and then closing it hurriedly behind them.

They now were to an almost pitch-black, very narrow corridor, full of humidity on its stone walls, with only a dim light or two every five or so meters. The two of them looked before them for a moment or two, before he looked at her rather worriedly.

“Io… err… no Nazi… no a… s-spy… Pr-Promize” he whispered with his so Italian voice, which was so light, even though its depth, and full of emotion; Hermione instantly adored his so unusual voice and after that, she felt a kind of minute relief inside her with his words, even though she knew that sometimes promises were something that could easily break. She nodded, so he could understand.

“I… n-name Ron” the man said then softly and she nodded again. _Ron…_

“I’m Hermione” she said kindly and strangely so, she felt safe with him, even though he was a complete stranger and an Italian. A moment later, she heard the muffled, almost inaudible voice of the girl and Ron bended his head nearer to hers, listening to her carefully. Afterward, he answered back and quickly looked back at the woman, while he was cooing softly the little girl in his arms.

“… Go” he whispered almost inaudibly to her and they slowly and hesitantly started to walk on the so narrow corridor, which made the people to almost squeeze with each other. Cold air was embracing them, making them shiver slight violently, as high levels of worry, of anxiety, of new-born horror were overwhelming in their souls and hearts. They carried on with their unsure steps towards the other end of this dark path, of this catacomb-like shortcut. The passageway started to have some declivity and their pace unconsciously became only a bit brisker. Hermione was glancing every now and then at the tall, lean, young man next to her, noticing his care towards the little girl, as he was trying to ensure her momentary tranquility, to have her safe in his arms, while he was adjusting the weight of a big sack on his back. A second later, he glanced back at her hesitantly, and when he saw her eyes on him, he lowered his head a bit, probably in slight shame. Hermione wanted him not to feel like that- there wasn’t a need to be so awkward with each other, even though they actually didn’t know each other at all.

“Where does this shortcut lead us to?” she asked gently and his head shot up in a second, as he looked at her confusingly- then Hermione remembered a bit late that he couldn’t understand an utter word of hers. She saw him knitting his eyebrows and he let a soft noise, which showed his big puzzlement, to escape from his mouth.

“Where the road goes.” Hermione said as simply and slowly as she could think of, while she was gesturing forward; Ron examined her face a second more and then he nodded, showing his understanding.

“O-Out… err…” he said with his influent, almost non-existent English, perplexing her and probably himself as well; Hermione tried to help him.

“Out of town?” she suggested kindly and the young man seemed to think about it for a moment before nodding once unsurely. Then he opened his mouth once again. “La foresta…” he whispered hesitantly and Hermione finally understood what he actually wanted to say.

“It leads near to the forest!” she exclaimed softly, mostly to herself, before half-smiling to him as a thanking gesture; he seemed to realize it and he nodded in response, his eyes a bit wary and restless. They resumed their walking in silence, every now and then the silence only would be broken by drops of moisture that hit the ground or by some soft cooing from the man, as he was continually trying to keep the child calm and secured.

Half an hour or so later, the light slightly became a bit brighter and they finally saw an iron ladder nailed on the stone wall, leading upstairs. They looked upwards uncertainly and then at each other, not knowing what actually to do. Was it safe for them to follow this way? What if there were people on the other side, waiting for people just like them, who all they ever wanted was to savour the simplest form of freedom?

Hermione let her eyes stay on that invisible spot for a moment longer, before she lowered her eyes a bit, only for them to rest on the man’s face, taking in his immeasurable trouble. They stared at each other for a moment, while ambiguous silence engulfed them, making the atmosphere so inexplicable… He nodded softly after a few moments, showing her that he, at least, was going to take that risk. She nodded back as a response and inhaled deeply, while she heard Ron shifting the girl in his arms, and kissing her head softly.

“Mia Luna, è possibile fare me un piccolo favore?” ( _“My Luna, can you do me a little favour?”)_ Hermione heard him say to the little girl.

“Si” she then listened to the slightly sleepy voice of the infant and she looked with the tail of her eye at the two of them, seeing Ron caressing the girl’s face tenderly.

“Il mio angelo, dobbiamo salire la scaletta laggiù - vedete la scaletta, familiare?” ( _“My angel, we have to climb this ladder over there- do you see the ladder, sweetie?”)_ he spoke gently in Italian and then Hermione saw the girl stirring in his arms and looking worriedly at the wall opposite them; when she nodded, Ron smiled a little at her before continuing: “Naturalmente verrà aiutarti, ma è possibile fare questo, il mio bambino? Noi non possiamo salire insieme… Prometto che verrà a dormire dopo, aggettivo?” ( _“Of course I’ll help you, but can you do this, my baby? We can’t climb together… I promise you you’ll sleep afterwards, alright?”_ )

The woman glanced at the girl and saw her nodding once again at the man’s, unknown to her, words. The tall, Italian man smiled softly once more and kissed the girl’s cheek before putting her down. The girl shivered a little and looked at the man for a moment before she gazed curiously up to her and then smiled a little bit unsurely, before saying with her so girly, sweet voice: “Ciao.” Hermione smiled reassuringly down to her and then glanced hesitantly at the man, wanting to know if such things were ok by him- he was looking at her, too and he half-smiled thankfully; her insides warmed a bit.

“I go… and y-you…” Ron whispered with difficulty and stared at her somewhat piercingly, trying probably to show her his point, if not by words, by his so expressive eyes. Hermione knitted her eyebrows a bit, as her mind was trying to translate his mere words and identify his stare, and after a moment, she nodded in agreement, finally comprehending his words. He half-nodded back and then his eyes travelled to the girl, staying faithfully at this sight for a bit, before Ron inhaled deeply and took the child in his arms, then helping her to climb the ladder slowly until she was fully enable to do this by herself- even if the man was keeping a wary eye on her. The woman heard him say something quick with his slightly husky, worried voice a moment later, and he instantly put his hands on the girl’s petite waist, pulling her in his broad chest and hugging her tightly while whispering something in her ear hurriedly. He straightened his body, which was covered on its back by his large sack and now on its front from the girl, who had clung on him. Hermione saw him extremely concerned, but he just glanced at her and then inhaled before starting to climb up the ladder, obviously having great difficulty because of the added weight on him. He climbed it very slowly, making sure to secure his stability, while every now and then, he would glance down at her with the tail of his eye. She, for some odd reason, felt herself blush a bit from under his glances, from under those emotional, by any way, eyes. She stared at his rather lanky form, which was trying so hard to climb the ladder- the breaths were coming out a bit as gasps, but he kept on. After a minute, she started to climb as well, not wanting to stay too far behind them- for some reason she quite _needed_ to stay with them, with him.

They kept on climbing for some minutes probably, Hermione having been able to hear the little girl whimpering in his chest, while Ron was desperately trying to sooth her and at the same time, keep his stability ensured. Another couple of minutes passed on the ladder, until small traces of more light were suddenly evident from above them, making them slightly more eager to keep going on with this sickening process. After some moments, Ron stopped moving, and with great effort he opened the trap door above him a bit. Hermione’s heartbeats started to increase and quicken, as fearful prospects of them getting caught inserted in her mind, making breathing hard for her. She looked up to the man, who was still peeking at the outside, and then he opened the door fully, putting his one arm around the girl’s body tightly and then he pushed himself up, so his body hit the ground. Hermione instantly started to climb up the few steps of the rusty ladder and then used her one arm to push herself up, but then she felt a strong hand on her forearm, as Ron was helping her to exit from the small trap door. When she was fully out, Ron immediately closed the door and covered it with some soil and stones. Hermione was then able to feel anything from the environment around her.

Cool air was caressing her face rather disgracefully, as now the sky was darker because of the course of the sunset. The skies were painted at the moment with orange and crimson tints, beautifully combined with the rich blue colour; Hermione’s thoughts went a moment later at the crowd that was still entrapped in the town, wondering suddenly if nature knew how much blood had been shed for the nation, for thirst of freedom, thus appearing with such vivid, shiver-making colours. She shivered herself and blinked back the tears that wetted her eyes.

She turned her head around slowly, searching with her eyes for Ron and the girl. He was kneeling beside her at the moment, still covering the trap door with trembling hands and wide, rather shocked eyes, while the girl was sobbing softly and clinging on his chest fearfully. Ron was whispering hurriedly under his breath various, incomprehensible things as his body started to shake a bit, fear overwhelming him and making its appearance to shoe this just now. He, all of a sudden, turned his head towards her and looked at her with eyes full of pain.

“You… a-and I… Luna… go… no find…” he stammered with his slightly cracked voice and with toil, he stood up, his eyes never leaving hers from their sight. She wasn’t quite sure what he was saying but her heart, with some unknown to her power, discerned that he wouldn’t ever harm her, and all he wanted was for all of them to be safe, even if that was quite strange for two people of different nations who didn’t know each other almost at all. She stood up as well and tried to show him with her eyes that she would be with them, she would follow him, making sure to help him and the girl and- if that was possible- vise versa. He must have seen it, because his characteristics seemed to held more sureness and a second later, he took her hand with the only free of his and started to guide her towards the thick forest before them, his pace brisk and alarmed, just like hers.

It took them half an hour, more or less, to reach the woods, now being even more difficult to see because of the faint twilight and because of the leafage that avoided the light to reach them- Hermione felt her body shaking but she didn’t give a second thought to it. Ron kept on with his swift, agonizing pace, his one arm around the baby while the palm of his other one was tightly holding one of hers, never letting it go as if he was afraid of doing so. Hermione glanced worriedly at his face, seeing the agony, the hurry, the feeling of protection he needed to give, and she recognized her feelings in his own ones, that making her feeling surer for some unexplainable reason. She ran more, hearing her heartbeats in her ears, feeling her pulse producing a crazy, brisk rhythm while her breath couldn’t quite catch her anymore, but she kept going, all she was needing at the moment was some fragile, worthy freedom, nothing more than that- could she have it?

Unconsciously, she squeezed back his large palm, and he briefly looked at her seriously, and then he kept running faster, even though the weight on him and her own one, as well, was slowing him down a bit- something made him even more urged to keep going on with this, so he, too, would be able to savour the taste of liberty people of their times weren’t able to even realize…

They ran and ran and ran for an hour or so, until they were deep into the forest; the night had finally come and besides the crescent moon’s silver light, there wasn’t any other source of glow. Ron finally stopped near a big, old tree and he rested his forehead on its rough surface, let his body to finally adjust after such cruel running. His breathing was coming out as heavy, deep gasps which didn’t slow down until many minutes had finally passed. Hermione tried even harder to slow down her breaths and wet her so dry throat, while she felt her some sweat to become cooler on her hot skin. She wanted to rest her body on the trunk of the tree, but the man’s shaky, sweaty hand was clinging on hers, never letting it go. She glanced at him, but all she was able to make out was the outline of his body and a bit of his, now uncovered from the sack, back.

Both Ron and Hermione seemed to come back to reality when sobs were easily heard. Ron instantly broke free from their bond and he kneeled on the ground with force in his body, like gravity was suddenly increased and forced him to be one with the ground. He put both of his arms around the girl, more loosely this time, and whispered something in her ear, while she was crying softly. Ron caressed her long hair reassuringly and kissed the top of her head every now and then, until she was calmed down. Hermione, for all this time, had just stood still, just looking at them rather sadly, thinking of the fear this little girl surely felt and of the hopelessness and the desperation that obviously tortured the man before her eyes- it was rather heartbreaking.

Ron let the girl rest with her back on the tree after taking off his woolen jacket and covered her little body with it. He stood up quickly and after a moment of looking at the child, he looked at her. Hermione saw his face glowing under the faint, silver moonlight and she felt warm inside her.

"C'è un piccolo fiume, non lontano da qui …" _(“There is a small river, not far from here…”_ ) he said with his quite cracked voice, like he was on the verge of tears. Hermione heard the words coming out from his lips, but she couldn’t understand a thing from them. He exhaled loudly and clapped his forehead with his palm, seeming somewhat annoyed that he couldn’t communicate with her, that he couldn’t make her understand. Hermione looked at him gently, even though he wasn’t looking at her now, and waited patiently for him to try again.

“…err…acqua… fo-rrest… err… I no say, no…” he was trying hopelessly and then he exhaled one more and let his head hung; he seemed to feel useless and Hermione felt sad for him. She stepped closer to him and after looking at his shadowed, still bended face, she suddenly cupped his cheek, surprising even herself, but she didn’t mind. He immediately looked at her surprisingly and swallowed rather audibly, but staying still, just looking down at her with wide eyes (oh, he was _so tall_ …).

“Tell me…” she whispered slowly with a reassuring tone in her voice, her eyes never leaving his and the opposite- this kind of bond felt weird, _nicely weird_ … He stared at her for a couple of short moments before he inhaled from his mouth and spoke.

“A-Acqua…” he only managed to say and his eyes closed firmly afterwards, him seemed in such pain only because of his feelings of uselessness. Her palm remained on his cheek as she thought to help him a bit if she was able to do so.

“Acqua.” she repeated softly and Ron gradually opened his eyes, looking at her unsurely this time. “Acqua is water.” she continued as slowly as she could, so he would understand if he could. He peered at her eyes, trying to realize what she wanted him to, but he seemed to be at loss; Hermione then came up with an idea.

She bended and took from her small bag a bottle of water she had, before standing up again and showing it to him. “Water” she said slowly so he could understand what water is. He looked at it for a second before nodding once, a trace of new hope in his motion.

“Do you want to drink some?” she said then gently and stretched her arm towards him, showing him that he could have it. Ron stared at it sadly for a moment before his eyes traveled back on hers and he shook his head slowly. Her hand dropped at her side, feeling quite disappointed herself by the lack of verbal connection.

“Don’t you want water?” she said rather sadly, even though she knew that words were in disuse. She looked at him after some moments, noticing that his eyes were still gazing into hers, making as a result feel weird. Then she observed a hint of what should be a smile on his lips.

“S-See” he said uncomfortably to her and then he kneeled on the ground, his eyes expectantly staring at hers as if he wanted her to do the same. She followed suit a moment later and then Ron took a small branch from nearby and started drawing on the ground. Hermione, despite the so faint light, managed to make out some trees he was hurriedly sketching, and then, between them, he made on the ground long, tortuous lines, one so close to the other, actually looking like waves…

“There’s a river somewhere nearby!” she exclaimed and she looked at his face, seeing there some mere satisfaction. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

Ron just stared at her face with so strangely innocent eyes, just titling his head only a bit. After a couple of moments, he sighed lightly and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take. She took it instantly, sensing this same, even though outlandish, feeling of security and balm in her soul. She stood up as well and then Ron showed her towards the east, probably a short path that leaded them to the river. She nodded once and she took her bag from behind her, while the man was talking softly to the girl, before taking her in his arms once again. When they were all set, he guided her towards the stream, this time slowly walking, adjusting their every step, their every movement, their every decision. The almost invisible surroundings were making it difficult for the man to keep a steady pace that would let them soon reach their new destination, thus he stopped quite often, murmuring to himself while turning his head around, trying to identify something familiar to the almost pitch-black environment. Hermione kept following him patiently, her instincts still relaxed around his presence, not at all alarmed or even suspicious. Her so uptight and restless mind couldn’t understand what made her be so reckless all of the sudden, but she kept going, feeling strangely safe- at least with him. Even she couldn’t quite grasp this phenomenon, but her soul was queerly able to do so; it was something in his huge eyes, something so… harmless and naïve, something she couldn’t remember to have ever seen in an adult’s eyes, not even in hers.

She could trust him.

…

She woke up quite easily as the gentle sunbeams were caressing her face warmly. She opened her eyes and looked around rather warily, her fears always alarmed after the some mere moments of meager rest. The sights didn’t actually disappoint her, as everything was as peaceful as it was every day.

They have been near the banks of the small river for two days now, actually momentarily living into a very small cave the small, full of trees hill made with the ground. Ron had managed to found it after they found the river, silently deciding to stay there for some unspecified time.

As she thought about that night, her mind travelled to the one person that led them there- Ron. Even though their communication was still almost inexistent and due to some unknown fact- probably mere hesitation and shyness because of lack of proper acquaintance- they didn’t actually dare for more communication than the indispensable one. The man was actually stuck with the little girl, watching her and making sure she was alright, while he- Hermione was rather sure of it just because of the facts- was looking at her from afar, ensuring that she was alright, as well. She was quite thankful for that.

She stood up and after stretching her arms and arching her back (sleeping on hard rocks and cold, slightly wet soil was rather painful), she searched with her eyes for Ron or for the girl, but all she was able to see were their belongings on the far corner of the little cave. She unconsciously made her way out and her eyes instantly narrowed, as the sunlight came with rather force into her still a bit sleepy eyes. After a second or two of adjusting the light, she took a step outside, trying to find with her pupils the two people that had entered into her life. She couldn’t see them anywhere, but after a minute, she finally heard faint, gentle voices, and as being sure it was them, she followed the sound of them, which guided her towards the riverbank.

She didn’t fully reach the river when she finally took a glimpse of two forms sitting under a huge, old oak. She decided to stay in the background for some unexplainable reason, and after she hid behind another tree, she looked at the two people. She saw Ron sitting on the ground, his back resting on the trunk, while the girl was sitting between his opened, bended legs. Hermione observed her small, cute face, which was now beaming- a rather wide, innocent smile was on her face. Then she saw the man behind the child; he was occupied at the moment braiding the girl’s long her almost perfectly, while a small- and she dared to say also melancholic- smile was on his own lips. Hermione’s eyes rested on his face for a bit longer.

As the first day she met him she wasn’t actually able to observe him, the next days she noticed his characteristics of his form: he was really tall and extremely thin, only some lean muscles covering this probably strong bones. His face was very handsome and rather expressive, even though he seemed to try to avoid that. His hair had a sandy colour, with it getting darker as it was nearer the skull, reaching tints of auburn. His skin must have been very pale, as she could observe by his sometimes bare feet, by his face was rather tanned by the exhaustingly hot sun of the summer. Moreover, his lips were full and crimson red, while his eyes were huge, almost round-shaped and had the most amazing colour of sky blue- probably the most beautiful part on his face…

Hermione lost in slight daydream for a couple of minutes without realizing; when she went back to reality, she watched the two people before her, who started talking casually to each other as the man was keeping on braiding the girl’s shining hair.

“Le piace qui, Luna?” _(“Do you like it here, Luna?”_ ) she heard him say with his soft voice that actually made her shiver just a bit. She saw the child nodding somewhat vividly and Ron’s smile widened only for a millisecond before returning back to its rather meager state.

“Quando andremo a casa?” _(“When will we go home?”_ ) the girl then said with cheerfulness lacking of her melodic voice; Hermione saw then Ron’s smile disappearing by something and his fingers stayed on the spot for a moment before he resumed with his soothing motions.

"Non possiamo per ora, ma un giorno saremo…” ( _“We cannot for now, but sometime we will…”_ ) Hermione heard him say some words with his so Italian voice, full of emotion. She saw the girl looking a bit less carefree while the man was doing his job with his hands less eagerly, like something was torturing him inside. The two of them stayed there in silence for some moments during which Hermione didn’t dare to make her appearance known, believing that she would destroy some precious moment between family members- if she was right with her guesses and they were siblings like they seemed to be (he looked so young…). Then the woman heard the girl’s voice once again.

“Dove è il mum?” _(“Where’s mum?”)_ she heard her and then she saw Ron froze where he was, his eyes widened scarily much while his lips parted a bit, his lower one trembling slightly; Hermione thought that whatever the girl told him must have shook him too much.     

“Mamma… Mamma è in un viaggio… lontano da qui… Ma lei ci vede da dove ella è, e lei ama molto…   _(“Mum… Mum is on a trip… far away from here… But she sees us from where she is and she loves you so much…”)_ Hermione listened then to his suddenly shaky voice, his body still frozen and probably stiff, for some reason only he could know; the woman looked at them with interest, even though she couldn’t understand a thing from what they were saying.

“E perché non andiamo con mamma?” _(“And why didn’t we go with mum?”)_ she heard the rather plaintive tone of the girl, her face showing a bit of hurt and confusion. Ron seemed uneasy with the whole situation and Hermione, with some confusion yet with also an uncomfortable clench in her stomach, saw his bright eyes welling with shiny liquid. She heard him inhaling too deeply, like he was demanding on himself not to shatter to pieces that would never be a whole part again… It broke her heart a bit, even though she couldn’t understand why this was happening now to him, just from a dialogue with a little girl.

“Lei è un posto dove che possiamo andare, Luna, ma… ma prometto che ella non dimentica lei ci saranno amore è eterno, bambina…” _(“She is somewhere we cannot go, Luna, but… but I promise she won’t forget us- she will love you forever, baby…”)_ the woman listened to his somewhat hoarse tone as from his lips were escaping foreign for her words. Both of them stood still for a couple of moments, while Hermione was holding her breath, her eyes glued on the seemed-to-be-so-vulnerable face of his, his eyes holding unexpectedly weakness and… _was that pain?_ Hermione felt shocked, with the sad meaning of it.

“Potremo vedere nuovamente mamma?” _(“Will we see mum again?”)_ Hermione suddenly took notice of the child’s voice and saw Ron’s state getting worse for some reason- he seemed to be in a torture no one seemed to understand, only he. He opened his mouth slowly, thinking for a bit before letting his Italian words to spread in the suddenly stuffy, heavy air.

“Qualche… qualche giorno la vedremo… Pregate appena affinchè lei siate fini dove è… Preghi e sorriderà a voi… Preghi e noi volontà in grado di vederla un giorno…”   _(“Someday… someday we will see her… You just pray for her to be alright where she is… Pray and she will smile to you… Pray and we will be able to see her one day…”)_ the woman heard the man’s voice almost cracked, his tears staying with difficulty hooked on his eyelids as he was surely trying to stay calm just for the girl before him. Hermione looked at the girl and saw her nodding rather seriously, before looking hesitantly at him from above her shoulder, and the woman saw him instantly putting a small, probably reassuring smile on his lips, while his eyes were shining awfully from the unshed tears. Hermione felt so sorry for him, even though she couldn’t know the reasons behind all these, but she just did so, seeing the immeasurable strength he showed just to protect this child. He probably wasn’t a hero that had been found in the blood-stained fields of battle, but he was another kind of hero, one of those nameless, really brave heroes that history couldn’t ever record; her heart broke a bit.

She saw him taking deep breaths just to composure himself before he talked once again, this time his tone pretending to be much lighter: “Lo desiderate rifinire con la vostra treccia?” _(“Do you want me to finish with your braid?”)_ With his words, Hermione saw the girl nodding vigorously, a cute smile immediately brightening her face. Ron half-smiled to himself at the so beautiful sight and he braided the last hair of hers until it was a beautiful plait. When he was finished, he made the girl to hold its end, while he untied the shoelaces of his one boot and cut some of its ends. Then he took the braid in his fingers and tied its end with the cut laces, then looking at it rather satisfied.

“Qui è…” _(“Here it is…”)_ Ron said then with his deep, smooth voice and the girl turned around happily, hugging the man tightly as saying something muffled in his chest. Hermione took in the so beautiful image of them, making her feel slightly better after staring for minutes at his unknown-why heartbreaking image, and she decided that she had seen too many things that supposed to be entirely theirs. She didn’t let the guilt to sink in her completely as she took an inaudible, deep breath and she went back to the cave soundlessly, her mind full of various things.

Once she was outside the cave, she started to eat some unripe berries she found the day before, her eyes every once in a while looking around for a sign of them. A couple of minutes mustn’t have passed, when Ron came, the little girl in his arms playing happily with some reddish locks of his hair. Hermione stood unconsciously as she saw him approaching, and when he was in front of her, he gently put the girl on the ground, then looking at her for the first time that day. Hermione held with difficulty a soft grasp to escape from her mouth.

His face seemed too painful, his eyes very wet, even though there wasn’t any hint showing that tears had been shed, while his lower lip was trembling uncontrollably- he seemed unable to keep calm anymore.

He looked at her with eyes full of unexplainable to her pain and complaint; he seemed really lost. Hermione was ready to ask him if he was alright and if he wanted some kind of help, but he spoke first.

“Per favore… I… I g-go… y-you e Luna… I…” he stammered with his so cracked, soft voice, trying desperately to make her understand him. His index finger pointed first at him, then behind him, towards the river and then at her, then to the child. Hermione’s brain found a tiny difficulty for a moment, but then she caught his point and nodding immediately.

“I’ll look after her, don’t worry…” she said lowly, her too pointing her finger towards the girl, then at herself. Ron’s eyes held a small, thankful feeling while the hard feelings were still there and he nodded once before he kneeled in front of the girl and after saying her something quick, he once glanced at Hermione and went towards the river once again, his pace showed hurry and slight urgency. Hermione looked at the spot he was before disappearing for a moment and then she turned around, so she could see the girl looking at her with her curious, shiny eyes. The woman approached her and sat next to her on the ground, half-smiling at her, trying to make her feel more comfortable around her. The girl smiled brightly.

 “Il mio nome è Luna” the girl said with her melodic voice, making Hermione smile unconsciously. She, even though she couldn’t understand almost a thing from their Italian, she was fairly sure that the girl was telling her name.

“Hermione” she said a bit slowly and pointed with her index finger at herself, so Luna could understand her. Luna giggled happily for a couple of seconds.

“Hel-mimi!” she exclaimed happily and giggled once again, making Hermione laugh softly with her cuteness. She observed her face, having many similarities with Ron’s: the shiny, angelic eyes, the full lips, the pale skin, the colour of hair, even though hers was a bit blonder. On the bridge of her nose there were some light brown freckles, making her looking even cuter. Hermione smiled softly at the sight and as a result, Luna smiled widely in return.

“Are you hungry?” Hermione asked softly and she pointed at her stomach, rubbing it for a second so the child could understand. Luna titled her head and looked at her with her huge, bright blue eyes that held confusion and innocence; for some reason, the picture of Ron having the same expression in his eyes because of his confusion at her words, flashed on her mind- she felt her cheeks suddenly getting warmer.

“Look” she said then and she showed to Luna the few berries and acorns she had found. Luna’s eyes grew slightly wider and she squealed rather happily. Hermione laughed softly ‘cause of her so cute reaction and she pulled the food closer to the girl, so she could eat if she wanted to. Luna glanced up to her hesitantly before taking one berry in her hand and after observing it for a brief moment she ate it, a smile across her face as she was munching it. Hermione felt lighter as she was watching the girl eating the meager amount of food, and she ever so slowly let her palm to rest on the girl’s head, caressing the so soft hair reassuringly. Luna unconsciously leaned her head closer to her, and while eating, she drew closer to the woman until she was resting on her side. Hermione smiled softly at her and kept stroking her long plait, until the girl was finally finished with her food, so she looked up to her with a wide smile, which was covered by fruit’s juice. Hermione laughed merrily for a moment before cleaning her mouth gently and then she saw Luna turning around, now facing her. It was obvious that the girl wanted to do or tell something, so Hermione waited in anticipation of the girl’s next move.

“Grazie!” Luna exclaimed and that brought once again, a smile to Hermione’s lips; _what a sweet, sweet little girl_ … Luna then stared at her face for a moment and then at her hair. Immediately, her little hand made its way towards her crazy curls and played with them, making giggle once more. “Hel-mimi!” she exclaimed once again and Hermione laughed, thinking that this child was like a little angel, like a tangible relief that was so much needed during such torturous times. Instantly, Hermione felt sorry for the girl, having to endure such cruelty and difficulties even though she couldn’t understand it; it was brutal, just like everything else seemed to be at those hateful times of war.

An hour or so must have passed like this, Hermione and Luna spending time together and having a bit of fun however they could, until soft steps, which were stemming from the path that led to the river, could be heard, and a couple of moments later, Ron was in their visibility range, making as a result Luna to squeal happily and ran immediately towards him, while Hermione’s breath was somewhat caught. When the man saw the girl coming to him, he kneeled and opened his arms widely, waiting for her to fell into his hug. Luna hugged him tightly and he instantly hugged her back, kissing tenderly the top of her head; then Hermione was quite able to examine his face.

The skin of his face was paler than usual, as his lips had some droplets of scarlet liquid on them, as if they’d been bit hard. As for his eyes, they seemed very tired in their now puffy and slightly red sockets, but now more content than earlier, making her feel more relaxed. She then noticed that the eyes she had been thinking about were now looking at her, thankfulness still shining in them.

“Grazie” she heard his rather hoarse voice and she nodded in response, a half smile appearing on her lips. Then both of them heard Luna’s melodic voice, as the girl was turning a bit around to face both Ron and Hermione.

“Hel-mimi!” she exclaimed cheerfully to Ron as her little index finger showed him her sitting form some meters away. Ron looked down at the girl in his arms for a moment before looking with his animated eyes at her, unexplainably making her heartbeat brisker. She saw him smiling beamingly and a soft, deep laugh tickled her ears gently; _his laugh_ …

“Hermione” she heard him saying very slowly to Luna, who was looking back at him with pure interest. Hermione’s eyes widened a bit unconsciously as she heard her name coming out from his lips for the very first time. Her ears itched to listen to this wonderful sound again, as her eyes were gazing into a set of crystal blue eyes that were staring back at hers calmly.

She couldn’t remember feeling this way before, even though this kind of sentiment wasn’t telling her its name so she could know. But she liked it, nonetheless…           


	2. The Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Hope you all are all right and enjoy this story thus far! This chapter is quite shorter, but Ron and Hermione get to know each other more. Without further ado, enjoy!

She heard Luna's giggles from afar- it was adorable. It would make her day up so easily, even though she wasn't fully able to understand the power of this unknown charm.

Hermione smiled softly to herself as the melodic giggles were still lingering in her ears- giggles that were faithfully followed by a deep, melancholic, so gentle chuckle. Hermione's heartbeats started to increase; she was quite sure that her ears had found their drug only in this so pure sound. She sighed absentmindedly and she looked at her surroundings calmly, her mind actually wandering miles away from that lonely scenery.

Over a week had been passed in the forest along with Ron and Luna, only moving every now and then to a more secured place, but always near the river, this vital factor for their survival. Ron would always be absent for a couple of hours, so he could examine the area closely and then he would either bring them a bit more amounts of food or he would lead them to a slightly better place.

She sighed again, as in her mind flowed images of the one man that so abruptly entered her life. She couldn't wholly realize the warmth in her chest whenever she would see him or think of him, neither could she comprehend the so small smile that came to her lips so easily every time she would turn in and reminisce of the so mere moments between them, but she had entirely accepted it- she knew that there was a really good reason for such newborn sentiments to be existent in her soul, even though she couldn't name them. They couldn't harm her even in the slightest…

Things between the three of them were gradually progressing; she and Luna had no problem at all spending time with each other, as Hermione already adored her, while the girl, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the woman's company, even though she was quite hesitant due to lack of perfect communication. Of course, Hermione was quite unsure herself, as well, only because of what Ron would might think and if he would find it appropriate of her to spend as much time with the child; however, Ron seemed fine with it, as he was staring at the two of them every time they were spending time together, watching them with somewhat piercing eyes, yet totally calm, from afar. She felt that it was sort of weird, but she didn't mind it.

At the moment, she was near the river, looking closely at the quiet surface of the water, making herself as calm as the liquid substance was, making herself one with the environment around her. For a so brief moment, the bright, shiny colour of the water reminded her of the colour of _his_ eyes and her breath, for once again, got caught, as her pulse started a bit quicker pace of its own. This kind of reactions every time she was thinking about him, even for a millisecond, were now always evident, yet they also surprised her and got her awed and rather fascinated- all the things this redhead man was causing to her were strange, slightly breathtaking and absolutely new-born. She couldn't live without them now, though.

She was ready to take a bath in the river, while Ron and Luna can't have been there. She went behind some trees that were grown the one really close the other and she started to undress herself slowly, her mind wandering elsewhere like always. She remained with all but a tank top and her underwear and she considered for a moment if she would do just with her bra and underwear or if she would wear the thin, cotton article of clothing as well. She decided against the later and she took it off, but only a second later, her eyes saw movement and a tall figure appeared before her…

Two loud yells full of surprise could be clearly heard a moment later and Hermione instinctively covered her half-naked body with her thin arms, her wide eyes glued on the embarrassed figure in front of her. Ron had become red and his eyes were wide as well, until he gasped once more and he then covered his eyes with his hand, turning his head a bit to the left.

"Sono così spiacente!" (" _I'm so sorry!"_ ) Hermione heard him saying with a quite pleading, apologetic tone in his deep voice- she got lost for a moment, just from the smoothness of his perfect, deep voice.

"It's alright…" she whispered, still a bit breathless of this sudden shock, but now able to look at him without much shyness or something. She heard him take one deep breath before taking slowly his hand from his eyes and then he turned his head towards her form, his eyes coyly and still a bit apologetically looking at her own ones.

"It's alright" she repeated to him, letting a small, reassuring smile to appear on her lips so he could understand she wasn't furious with him- she really was alright with it. She noticed then that the tips of his ears got a bit pinker and he shifted his eyes from hers for a moment, before gradually making them to rest on hers once more, making her as a result calm, yet restless.

They remained silent for a couple of short moments, the woman staying still with her eyes gazing at him faithfully, while the Italian man seemed more nervous, his eyes resting on hers and then looking at the ground, then at her neglected clothes on the soil, then once again on her face- but never on her half-naked body. His lips parted a bit and he took another deep, shaky breath, his eyes gazing at her face absentmindedly, making her suddenly nervous, thus, she sifted under his hypnotized gaze. This barely visible motion made him 'wake up' and took a tiny step backwards. For some unexplainable reason, his eyes widened a bit and his lips parted slightly, like something made him feel somewhat edgy. Hermione looked at him with a calm look, trying to make feel a bit relieved through this sudden… silent outburst (?)- she couldn't quite place it with words-, but he seemed at a slight loss; he looked with gazing eyes at the ground as his hands were shaking a bit, but he seemed a bit more content a moment later. He glanced deeply into her eyes for a moment, making her spine shudder a little, and then he was gone, leaving her once again alone in the minute clearing.

Her breath belatedly managed to come back to normal- the effect he seemed to have on her greater that the one she had thought. In her mind, the piercing colour of his irises drowned her thoughts like it was a welcoming sea that pulled her inside, and it was astonishing.

She inhaled deeply and let the tank top meet the ground, as her feet were heading towards the water. As the skin made contact with the smooth, liquid substance, she felt like tomorrow wasn't important, nothing else mattered except from the embrace of nature itself, which was inviting her warmly.

She just decided to get lost in the senses; thinking was pushed aside at the moment.

* * *

 

She was right there, a part of the silent, resting environment. Almost darkness engulfed her but without bringing fear or doubt along with it- it was mere tranquility that was apparent in her soul, even if that was possible. The moon above her was waxing like always, not caring about the lethal events it was facing in the surface of the planet Earth; really, very few people seemed to care about the indescribable crimes taking place in that wounded soil.

Her mind strangely was still, not thinking about a thing. She heard her steady breathing while her pupils were taking in the scenery before her- the body was at a welcoming ease for which she was grateful; she was merely glad she wasn't a contrast to her surroundings.

She must have been there for some hour, doing actually nothing, when she finally heard soft steps during the tangible silence- still she didn't gave too much of thought to the fact. It was only a few minutes later, when she finally realized that a shadow was covering her, that a figure was near her, standing still, staring at her own sitting form. She looked up with some expectancy and her eyes rested on Ron; suddenly her eyes were quite unable to look elsewhere.

His tall, lean body was standing on the ground proudly, like a beautiful sculpture. His pale skin seemed to glow under the silver moonbeams brilliantly, making her feel utterly lucky for laying her eyes on such a sight. His dark blue eyes were on her, a serene look in them. They stayed like this for a moment or two, till the man hesitantly kneeled next to her, his unsure stare showed her that he was quite afraid of her reaction to his quite forward motion. Hermione just let a tiny smile appear in her mouth so he would feel easier with her and then her head leaned backwards, her eyes gazing at the zillions of silver spots on the dark blue velvet above them. Her arms hugged her bended legs and brought them closer to her chest as she let a small sigh to escape from her sealed lips; those content, starry nights always made her think of her childhood- careless, innocent times back then…

The mere sound of hers must have caught the man's attention, as Hermione felt those round eyes be glued on her. She gradually took her eyes away from the glittery map over them so her eyes would meet his own; immediately, a lively spark appeared deep in his dark pupils while his form a mirror of hers- with his long arms snaked around his also long legs, his skinny feet bare. They stayed like this for centuries- time seemed to have lost its value here, during the still of the night.

"Z-Zorree…" he whispered after a while, his handsome characteristics stained with some shame. Hermione tried to understand his word for a bit, but his face seemed to be more specific that the poor verbal communication between them; she smiled reassuringly and nodded her head once softly- Ron seemed to be too shy with her, especially after the little incident in the morning. They stayed once again in comfortable, curing silence, their lives and spirits still needed the mending after the blowing of a war that was still hunting them. Words that couldn't be spoken, anyway, weren't said, as both people stared up at the sky, gazing at the numerous stars and the moon, as minds were traveling faraway, to stratosphere and back there, always restless and in worry.

"Il Luna è il mio bambino" the woman suddenly listened to his rich voice breaking the silence and she turned her head towards him, gazing his face rather curiously. A tiny smile flickered on his full lips as he was still looking up to the skies, his expression a bit more carefree. Hermione tried to comprehend the foreign words without thinking much about the lingering of his perfect accent in her ears. She also glanced up to the Prussian-blue sky, her eyes fixing on the almost round satellite; then, she looked back to him.

"Yes… Luna is the Moon" she said lowly, thinking that he was talking about that. Ron looked down to her gently, his eyes holding the innocence of the entire world as he was actually looking into her soul. Hermione tried to ignore her wild heart and crazy pulsation and she just showed the source of light above them with her index finger, helping him understand. He peered at her face curiously for a moment, then up to the sky with some expectancy. He examined the moon for a couple of seconds and then his eyes returned to their former sight, nodding softly, even though a bit unsurely.

"Si, luna…" he whispered kindly, even though he seemed at a slight loss with their conversation. He peered at her face for one more moment and then a quite bigger smile cracked on his handsome, pale face and a soft snicker could be heard, making the brunette to forget all about silly things such as breathing; his plain, melodic laugh, his entire existence seemed to me much more important. Her eyes focused on his face faithfully, not really understanding what was going on and made him laugh so gently. She let her face get a confusing expression until the Italian man could see it. When Ron seemed to catch her look, he stopped and looked at her with slightly brighter eyes.

"Luna…" he told her slowly and clearly with his low, soothing voice as his finger weakly pointed backwards them, where a huge, old tree was, its quite enormous cavity their temporary home. Hermione stared at the pitch black spot with her mind quite not so co-operative at the moment. Belatedly she understood that he was talking about the baby Luna.

Ron must have seen the realization lit her face, as his lips twitched a bit upwards for a second. When he was sure he had her entire attention, he repeated his words, more slowly and clearly this time: "Luna… mio bambino…" he whispered softly. Hermione was observing his face closely under the starlight and the words of his were sinking in her mind…

Her breath was slight caught as the meaning of the mere words reached their plain target… Sure, Hermione didn't know Italian, but she could understand some very simple things… as this one…

_Luna was his baby… as in child… as in daughter…_

The fact seemed quite impossible and Hermione turned her head swiftly towards him once again, her eyes wide and her mouth a bit open… The look in this serene face before her told her that her assumptions were absolutely true.

She couldn't quite realize why the fact was such a shock to her, but well, this… this _young boy_ couldn't just be a father! Yes, he looked tired and worn out, but almost everyone looked like this nowadays…

She heard the young man next to her clearing his throat softly and her head jerked so she could meet his huge eyes. His head was titled a bit on the right and he was looking her with huge, innocent eyes that were holding some child-like interest; how could she believe that such a human would be able to be a father right now?

He must have noticed her surprise somehow, because he gradually straightened his back and his finger rested on his left thigh. Hermione looked curiously at it as it slowly moved over the fabric of the beige trousers, as if writing something. The woman examined the almost imperceptible wrinkles he was making:

_26._

Her head shot up for the second time in a matter of a minute or two, so she could examine the angelic face of his, where a small, peaceful smile was now apparent. This man surely didn't look like he was in his mid-twenties, not at all, but he strangely was so… Probably it all had to do with this pureness and naivety that he possessed. She let herself get lost in those brilliant pools of cobalt blue for a minute, as he didn't seem to be bothered by that; his face seemed oddly more relaxed at that moment.

Then, a thought occurred to her: as they were 'living' together for now, she thought that she should tell him some things about herself, as well; he started it and she should also participate in this introduction of sorts.

Mirroring his previous movements, she let her own finger to travel on her loose, worn-out trousers, writing herself her age: _26._ Her eyes stayed for a moment on the shabby fabric of her clothing and then she shyly let her eyes rest on his face for the millionth time that night- not that she had a problem over that, but quite the opposite if she wanted to be frank with herself. His eyes were shining radiantly and she vividly thought for a moment why stars were still up to the sky, staring at them so cockily; shouldn't they be embarrassed for lighting so dimly while the definitive source of light was right there, before her weak, yet lucky eyes: this perfect set of angelic eyes that were smiling gently down to her at the moment… she felt herself in a whirl of light emotions and life- it was refreshing and reassuring during such dark and dreadful times… a real savior…

Like they were in each other's minds, like a powerful bond they couldn't fully comprehend yet was between them, the couple gradually leaned to the soft grass under them, lying under the look of the moon unprotected, yet tranquil, the thought that they would be very easy targets of a probably oncoming enemy- despite the some security the place provided- never passing in their heads; a restless mind needs its mere peace after the burn-out, after years of unstoppable storm. The two sets of eyes were glued up at the endless veil above them, as two souls were slightly starting to feel safer during such uncertainty in the world- it was the company of the other that kept them whole instead of wounded.

It was actually that night that made those desperate hearts to unconsciously understand that their entire world, their total existence was their company- the other anxious spirit that was lying next to them…

Hermione felt the slightly cool air stroking her face inevitably as her eyes were looking at the stars, in her mind stories from the mythology took their place as her pupils were observing the Dipper, the Orion, the Centaur. But then, she felt warmth on her right hand, as something small was hesitantly caressing her knuckle…

With the trail of her eye, she saw his little finger touching unsurely her own one- her skin there as in fire. He ever so slowly let another long finger to join the lonely one, her knuckles and palm like a temple that's been praised by a faith man. Gradually and shyly, his big palm covered hers like warm blanket, making her heart feel a trace of bliss inside it, as her blood found a truly good motivation for keep traveling in her petite body now- it was unprecedented but completely welcoming.

She let her head turn a bit around on the ground, meeting his eyes, which were already looking at her uncertainly, yet still calmly. They stayed like this for a while, words downright worthless at the time- silence told everything once more. From under his palm, she let her own one shift a bit, and she slowly spread her little fingers, unhurriedly intertwining them with his, making their hearts, as a result, crazier, meanwhile their souls calmer…

Everything was welcoming- every little thing of his was welcoming, despite the fact she wasn't able to grasp them fully just then… she was still grateful. Because life has its good moments, as well, she soon realized, actually relieving a poor existence from all this intolerable chaos that prevailed all over.

Yeah, life has its good moments as well…. ~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope you liked it! Please leave your comments, telling me whether you like the story thus far, if you noticed any sort of mistakes, or anything. Comments certainly make the author happier!   
> Take care and have a nice day! :)


	3. Life's Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter of the story, which I hope you all like so far. Well, not much to say, I guess, just that I hope you'll understand what Ron's saying every time he's speaking (you'll see what I'm talking about). So, without further ado, enjoy!

The sun was starting its way up to the sky, the rosy tints of the dawn making their appearance too, a so tangible relief for such a stressful existence. The air around the nature was strangely sweet and light and that could even seem suspicious to the sufferers. It seemed such a good day, even though that surely would be proved wrong later; the war never seemed to give a break to the mortals. War was just a spoiled child that was playing with some thirsty-for-glory-and-gold 'toys'….

Hermione let her breath out as a soft sigh, various thoughts making their appearance into that agitated mind of hers. After long time, she thought of her family, actually a subject she dreaded to think about these days. Her heart drowned in some guilt and sadness, but she knew that things were like this just because they couldn't be any other way; she just hoped they were all alright….

Another week had passed in that forest, the three people wandering around carefully, mistakes weren't allowed at the moment. Every day that passed was relief to them, yet it was pain, as they didn't know what to expect from the one that was coming. Fear, instead of subsiding, became huger in their hearts, swelling like an unwanted balloon they didn't wish for keeping- yet, explosion wasn't far….

That was the reason she liked the dawn… she guessed, at least…. A sweet painkiller….

She finally decided to go back inside to the little, almost derelict hut Ron had accidently found in one of his searches in the woods. At first they were very suspicious and worried about it, not being sure if it was really abandoned or if it was a trap, but after watching closely, they decided against the later and stayed- mere walls and a makeshift roof were slight better than hard rocks and cold ground.

She entered the small hut quietly, thinking that the other two, tired existences that were living with her there were meagerly resting at the moment. However, with some surprise and startle, she noticed that Ron was already wide awake, standing next to a small, dirty window, an open book in his slightly stretched hands, trying as well as it was possible to let light fall on the tiny letters. His head jerked gently when he sensed her presence in the room and looked at her with some interest; the young woman felt her cheeks a bit warmer, despite the coolness they witnessed only a few seconds before.

Ron smiled to her for a brief moment, never lacking of his pure gentleness- Hermione quite admired him for that. She saw him then flipping through the pages of his book rather impatiently and when he seemed to found what he was looking for, his cobalt blues eyes rested once more on hers and with some nervousness, he opened his mouth slowly: "G-Good… mo-morrrning…"

Hermione was slightly surprised as she heard him trying to speak English and having achieved in saying even such a small phrase so adequately; she smiled a little to him and repeated his words lowly, not wanting actually to wake the little girl up. She glanced once at the man, who was still looking at her with interested eyes, and she quickly lowered her eyes, feeling her chest getting warmer; she took a deep breath and went quickly and soundlessly at the only other sort of room the hut had, not really feeling very comfortable at the moment with the man there and without the lovely distractions from Luna.

She sat down on an old chair, looking forward to the almost empty and slightly dirty room, but her eyes weren't quite into observing the place- her mind was once again haunted by the man that was some meters away- her entire world seemed to include so much of him now.

He had started to read books after that fateful night under the moonlight. With some very poor communication, Ron had explained her that he was trying to learn English or at least the very essentials so he could speak a bit with her (of course the last one was just an assumption of hers, rather than his saying). He somehow had found- or he always had them with himself- a couple of books with English and Italian, as well as a small dictionary, from which he was reading almost all day, whenever he hadn't to look for food or take care of his daughter. Hermione was in great awe of his efforts, as with times like these and with people having more crucial problems than communication- and of course they were no exception to this-, he still was trying hard to learn, even though it would be considered at least hard for a stranger to learn a completely unknown language at that age and with no quite the right 'equipment' to do it well; yet Ron was still trying with almost all the power of his mind and will. Hermione wasn't very sure of this at first, but only until incidents took place and became worthy proves of the statement; she just couldn't forget what had happened the other day…

_Flashback:_

_It was very late at night, probably during wee hours. Hermione shivered a bit and put her thick, woolen jacket even more tightly around her thin body, her arms firmly snaked around her ribs, wanting to warm herself a bit more. The air she was exhaling every few seconds was more visible with the minutes passing and the woman thought that her night stroke should be forgotten; between her health and her trying to lull herself, she decided on the former._

_She quickly walked into the small hut, quietly as she remembered that Ron and Luna must have been sleeping by now. She was ready to face the almost pitch-black room and attempt to find the thin, too cold blanket on the floor, but as she was under the doorway, she noticed a dim light from the far corner of the room. At first she got a bit alarmed, but only half a second later she surprised looked at the lean figure of Ron, all curled up and sitting on the floor. As the woman stepped in, she observed him more carefully and she noticed a book resting on the thighs of his long, bended legs. He seemed to be really focused on what he was reading, as his eyes were traveling rather quickly from left to right, taking in the thousands of words. In his right hand, a small candle was lit, putting it really close to the book so the small letters would be noticeable. With some worry, Hermione saw his hand, almost all the skin covered with trickles of melted wax that even reached his slim wrist, now merely solidified by the wintry air. She thought for a moment how many little scars would be evident from the burning the hot, liquid material caused to his white skin, but Ron himself didn't seem to observe any of it- he was so concentrated to what he was reading, his lips even opened a bit, spelling soundlessly the words his blue eyes were making out—_

_Oh my…_

_His lips… His lips were almost as blue as his eyes._

_Not giving much thought now to what he was doing, she just noticed his form: a form that was shaking quite violently, with the skin under the faint light not looking pale, but rather to a tint between blue and purple; that instantly got her scared and anxious. She went quickly before him, having to do something before hypothermia made its appearance._

_Ron just then seemed to realized her, as his a-bit-red, a-bit-watery eyes tuned up to look at her standing figure; Hermione just hadn't time to think about it at the moment._

" _Her-Hermione…" he choked out rather hoarsely, looking at her with somewhat painful eyes, yet he didn't seem to protest about it._

" _You'll get cold!" she whispered seriously, yet with a tint of worry as well; at the moment, she didn't care if he could understand her or not- this was downright crazy!_

_Ron, by some inexplicable force, must have, more or less, understood what she talking about, as his head nodded behind her back, at the other side of the room. Hermione glanced around and with some difficulty she noticed Luna, who was now sleeping. As she looked closely, she noticed that the girl had been covered with every single cloth and blanket the man must be having with him, and even after that, the girl seemed slightly uneasy in her slumber. Hermione looked back down at Ron and his eyes were holding more pain now, as he was witnessing his baby actually be in torture; his spine seemed to shake even more now and a tear managed to escape from his long eyelashes and made a wet path across his cheek- Hermione couldn't do anything but be sorry for him._

_He suddenly looked back at her with his watery, tortured eyes and she felt her heart a bit stabbed with pain; she had to help somehow, even with the stupidest way possible. She looked around expectantly and when her slightly widen eyes found what they looked for, she went and grabbed it, then going back to where he was curled up and kneeled next to him._

" _Take it" she whispered softly and stretched her arm only a bit, her tiny blanket in her hand. Ron glanced at it while his dry, frozen lips were trembling, as his teeth were almost inaudibly chattering from behind, before looking her into the eye and shaking his head softly, even though his skin was mostly out because of the wintriness._

" _N-No…" he whispered huskily, his voice almost silent "You… you… n-need…" he protested softly and he lowered his head a bit, gazing at the candle, while another hot substance escaped from the candle only to burn the man some more. Hermione took a deep breath and spoke again, even though mostly to herself._

" _I'm not going to let you like this" she whispered seriously and he looked back again at her, his eyes filled with curiosity now, as well. Hermione looked back into those restless eyes as she let the cold fabric fall on the wooden floor between them. She gradually let her hand come closer to him and she gently took the candle from his shaky hand; his eyes widened only a little bit, but they still were following her, observing her actions. Hermione brought the candle near her face and blew the small light, leaving them in an almost completely dark environment, curling on a cold, uncomfortable floor; only a very faint set of silver moonbeams managed to emerge from the only, small window existent in the hut._

_She looked back at the now half-shadowed face, being able to still see his shuddering, even though his stiff body seemed to try to tame the shake. Hermione came closer to his body and even from this small distance, she could feel the sharp coldness that was encircling his momentarily weak body. Without much hesitation, the woman took his hands from his lap and she securely put them between her own ones. Their iciness scared her a bit and she quickly started to rub the skin kindly, yet with some force, wanting just to emit as much warmth as probable. She once glanced at his face and she made out a hint of surprise, but at the same time, she felt the hands between hers becoming less stiff, despite their chilliness. Slowly and carefully, she kept on the process, which after some minutes seemed to rise just a little bit the temperature of his palms. Then she slowly took one of her hands away from their meager bond and took the neglected blanket from between them, opening it fully and then putting it on both of them, trying to fully cover both of their bodies, even though that was quite improbable. She felt his eyes looking at her and she dared to look back, suddenly feeling warmer inside and forgetting for a bit the cold embrace of the air around them. She let the lingering emotion to warm her heart a bit and she took his large hands once again from under the blanket, warming them as the contact was warming their souls- Hermione was quite unable to believe that just the touch of the skin could make her soul feel such peace._

_Minutes flowed like this, the silence never breaking. After rubbing his palms for such a time, his skin seemed a little bit warmer from under her touch and his eyes, unconsciously, seemed a little more painless. Hermione, without actually realizing from where this new want of hers appeared, she took her right hand away and out of the blanket, gradually approaching his still rather bluish face. Ron didn't seem to mind, as his eyes were faithfully staring at her face, until her palm cupped his wintry, a-bit-stiff cheek. The contact sent shivers to her spine, but not actually from the cold that was torturing him, no… It was something more important._

_His eyes half-closed slowly, as the skin touched skin, as the slight warmth met the ice. The brunette just stayed there, looking at him with her lucky eyes, even though they were still worried for him. She suddenly saw his head leaning a bit closer to her hand and then bended only a tiny bit, so his ice-cold lips would softly brush on the skin of her inner wrist, where the pulsation instantly got brisker. Her eyes got slightly larger and her heart swelled a little, sending the blood with new-found power in every cell of her body. Her restless eyes were glued on him, his head slowly dragged away from her hand as he let it tiredly rest on the hard, cold rock wall behind them. And all Hermione did was holding his hands and watching him, hearing his breathing, which slowly started to become calmer and deeper, finally sleep let this worn-out existence to find some hours of tranquil._

_Sleep never came to her, though, as the blood was rushing in her veins, never letting her find her few moments of precious sleep. She tried to remember the sweet lullaby her mother used to tell her when she was a child, but the words suddenly seemed cold and empty, only succeeding in making her heart clenching uncomfortably from the pain. She wouldn't sleep that cold night._

_She never took notice of the form next to her, which through deep sleep, slowly leaned closer to her, until the head was resting on her small shoulder. Hermione was slightly surprised, but as she looked down at his still bluish, yet more peaceful, face, when she felt his fingers gradually shifting and curling under hers, as she was overwhelmed by new, sweet balm inside, she instantly felt more serene and whole- and this just because of the sight of him and of the different warmth he was emitting and giving to her…_

_And without realizing, her eyes closed and she fell asleep…_

_End of Flashback._

* * *

 

It was a warm day, the sun already standing right above their heads. Hermione, Ron and Luna were all at the riverbank doing actually nothing but merely enjoying the warm afternoon like they were on a trip, the two elder people just trying to push out of their minds the shivering thoughts of what most probably happened out of this forest, even for a while. Ron and Hermione were sitting next to each other casually on the soft grass, gazing at the bright surface of the water calmly, while Luna was nearer the river, playing with stones and with wooden sticks she had found here and there. Both Ron and Hermione looked at her as she was squealing happily at the moment, and they smiled warmly at the sight, a sweet reminder of better times. Hermione then heard Ron sighing softly and she looked up to him, seeing the gleam in his beautiful eyes as he was staring at his little angel.

"She's beautiful, you know" she said to him casually, her eyes too gluing to the beautiful sight of the girl. When the man next to her turned his head around a bit and looked at her, she turned hers too, already getting lost at the sight of his perfect irises. He smiled gently at her before speaking.

"Si, she be…" he said with his smooth voice that lingered in her ears. She was glad that the last few days they were able to speak a bit more with each other, as Ron now knew a few English that allowed him to speak. Besides that, he also asked Hermione if she could teach Luna some things as well, as he seemed to find it essential for his daughter to speak some, as well. Hermione was more than willing to help them, so she every now and then she would spend time with the little girl and she would teach her some words. Luna seemed quite happy spending more time with her and she proved to be rather quick learner, just like her father. "She like her mother…" he continued more lowly this time, his voice just above a whisper, and his eyes were now staring into vacancy. Hermione felt her heart beating more quickly and she stared at him with some surprise and anticipation.

Ever since she learnt from him that Luna was his daughter, she always wondered about his life; where was his wife? Why was he hiding with his child, why did he even was there instead of his homeland? The numerous questions about him were hunting her mind continually, but she wasn't alarmed by them- she was entirely sure she wouldn't be in danger with him.

Ron finally looked back at her after some long moments, his eyes a bit sadder than usual. He exhaled noisily and glanced at the ground between them for a moment before resting his blue orbs once more on her dark brown ones; Hermione waited patiently until he'd speak, if he was intending to do so. The wait wasn't long, as some seconds later, his lips parted.

"I marry Flora when 18- Flora 17" he spoke softly, his eyes not looking at hers anymore, but at the calm water before them- the sight seemed to calm him a little. "We verrry happee, live Napoli, beautiful town" His mind once again seemed to travel elsewhere, most probably somewhere in southwestern Italy, where his home was. "Flora no work, I make wood cher, wood table… we have everrry thing et amore, but war start and we scared and then my papa and mama dead and we alone but alrrrright.

Then Luna come and I happee and Flora happee, but weak and I worry but Flora say it be alrrright and smile but I so worry. And when Luna two, I need wood for work and it be winter and Flora say I help but it be verrrree cold and I say no, but Flora come and help. And then wind and snooo, but she wit I. Et other day, Flora ill and I worry and need help but I can not and Flora more ill… Flora strong soool bat little bodee and weak and then… then dead…" his voice almost inaudible and rather husky in the end as his eyes were drowned by salty liquid and sorrow, but he just let it be there, not letting it spread. Hermione felt her heart almost beating not at all, hearing his sad, stained story and felt his sadness reaching her soul inevitably, but he didn't blame him for a thing- she just felt so sorry.

"But I glad, Luna not home when Flora ill, Luna wit nonno et nonna, so no ill. If Luna be ill too, I no know what I do…" he told her then almost absentmindedly, like he was talking mostly to himself, rather to her. Hermione couldn't stand seeing him like this anymore and she hesitantly stretched her hand and touched his shaky, broad shoulder reassuringly. Ron looked a bit more at the water before looking back at her with sad eyes that were shining awfully from his unshed tears. Her own eyes were quite serious, yet reassuring and calm, so he would feel better, if that was even possible. Ron then let a minute smile to appear on his face, even though it didn't fully reach his eyes.

"I'm very sorry to hear that" Hermione whispered gently to him as her eyes stared back to his bottomless ones. Ron let his smile to become only a tiny bit wider.

"No… I know Flora be happee wit we…" he said with a melancholic tone in his deep voice and he let his eyes to rest on the little girl before them, his eyes shining again from mere calmness.

Hermione just stared at him with her pupils, the sight a bit heartbreaking as her mind wandered around the new-found story of him. She thought with awe how he was still able to remain so calm and content after so much pain, after losing almost his entire family and with a war painfully staying on their backs, but the answer came shortly after looking into his eyes.

_He was doing this just for the little child before them, trying desperately to give her an as-normal-as-feasible life, just a peaceful world to live in…_

And Hermione knew that the man that was sitting next to her was a true hero…

 

* * *

Her mind was still full of his words, her thoughts so filled with him and the pain he had to endure so far in his life. As she looked at the horizon, the orange tints of the sunset reminded of his golden hair and then she thought of his wife: Flora. She felt sorry for her, actually not being able to savour her life, living happily and fully with her man and daughter like it was supposed to be, but died because of her want to be with him, to help him and ease his hard work and toil…. She died because she seemed to want to help and care for the people she loved….

' _Let her rest in peace…'_ she prayed in her mind as the sky was becoming redder and redder. She sighed and walked towards the bank of the river, her mind still restless, yet still not tired, but numb….

She walked slowly without realizing where her feet were heading- the silence of the nature engulfed her more greatly than she had been asking. Step by step she was approaching something she didn't knew, a twist in her mind that she wouldn't fully grasp due to her shock….

But it was still rather early.

The walking was almost endless as her mind was like in grieving- Ron's words had affected her more than she would think. In her mind, she imagined his sorrowful, watery eyes, which held pain and tiredness, his innocence now overshadowed by the venomous emotions. Hermione couldn't stand this.

She suddenly heard muffled noises steaming from some meters before her, from somewhere near the river. At first she was alarmed and worried, but something else forced her to keep going, to investigate what was the source of the sounds. She carefully and silently started to take steps, her eyes ready to catch even the faintest movement. She hid behind thick trunks as she was looking around curiously, the sounds already a bit louder and clearer. She kept going on, until a tiny clearing, just a couple of meters away from the riverbank, was visible. She scanned the place with her eyes and at first she thought that no one or nothing was there, until she saw what was making the soft noises: Ron.

Her eyes widened unconsciously at the sight of him, as he was slowly undressing himself. Hermione felt her cheeks getting hot but her eyes seemed unwilling to pull away from his tall figure. She continued watching him as he was taking off his boots and thick socks, as he was taking off his trousers to expose long, strong, so pale legs. Hermione felt her body setting actually on fire as she was staring at his body, his long arms escaping from the scarlet, woolen jacket, then stretching to take off the brown jumper, leaving the lean body with nothing but a pair of dark boxers on. The woman remained there speechless, looking with big eyes at his broad, yet lean chest and abdomen, his muscles rather defined and the bones clearly visible, yet his pale skin had countless scars, some faint while other seemed to have caused such harm to the existence. And as the man was bending a bit and he was stretching his left arm to leave his blouse rest on the ground… she saw what she thought she would never see- and hoped she wouldn't ever see- in her life: 706853... 706853... 706853...

The number seemed already to hunt her mind in a torturing way and she suddenly felt relieved that she didn't gasp from the pure shock, otherwise he would take notice of her presence, a thing Hermione didn't want right now; the shock was still so fresh that she couldn't think of anything else…

 

The 6-figure number that was on the skin of the inner side of his lower arm put her in a fantigue, as her mind didn't seem to comprehend the too many signals that were being sent to her brain. Surely, this had to be unreal, a mistake of hers, why Ron would ever be in an internment camp, why—?

Her head was now dizzy- she could stand this no more. As the smoothing sounds of the water being interrupted, as the redhead figure was sinking in the fluid substance, Hermione sunk in a whirl of desperation and confusion, the pain too unbearable for some reason... So she tried to escape; she ran away.

* * *

 She was sitting in the hut silently as she was watching Luna quietly sleeping with her still-a-bit puffy eyes. Her hand slowly made its way to the girl's head, stroking the long, soft hair of hers soothingly, in hope of calming the baby girl and also herself. The sun had disappeared from behind the mountains for some hour now, only leaving a trace of its golden colours in the light blue veil. Her mind was now totally blank, but she knew that this would end the moment Ron was back there; she knew her mind needed answers at the moment, despite the pain they would bring altogether.

Some minutes later, Ron finally came, seeming exceptionally calm. Her eyes instantly focused on him, observing his slightly wet hair as he was sealing the door behind him. When he turned around, his eyes instantly met hers and he most probably noticed her uneasiness and emotional pain, as his face turned into holding a worried expression and he took some steps closer to her. Hermione took a deep breath and stood up, knowing that if they were about to talk, they had to speak away from the girl- two people were enough to hold the huge weight of the world's pain.

Ron looked unsure as the brunette approached him, standing right in front of him, only some mere centimeters between the two forms. They looked into each other's eyes for what seemed to be an entire eternity and even more, even though it was only a couple of minutes; minute had lost its value in that forgotten-by-time forest.

"I want to talk to you" she whispered with her quite hoarse voice and Ron looked at her anxiously for a moment before nodding once and guiding her to the other, smaller room of the hut. When they were there, Ron turned around and stared at her with his so expressive eyes. Hermione just wanted to cry more as she was staring back into this set of eyes, but she just blinked back the venomous sea that was threatening to escape from her sockets.

"What?" the man asked gently, looking at her rather curiously, yet still concernedly. Hermione took another lungful of air inside her, not wanting to hear her voice shaking or cracking while speaking. She looked deeply into those bottomless seas before finding fully the courage she didn't have inside her.

"I… I saw the mark on your arm… the number…" she whispered softly and her fingertips barely touched the spot where the mark was. Ron's eyes doubled their size as they were looking down at her shocked, while his arm, from under her faint touch, stiffened. His bottom lip started to tremble uncontrollably.

"P-Pleazze… not say people… if find I, Luna all alone, she dead… I…pleaze…" he whispered urgently with his painful tone, his orbs swiftly gained an awful, so hurting shine. Hermione instantly shook her head vividly, her own tears being held with much difficulty.

"I won't tell a soul about it, trust me…" she whispered with some passion and ache in her small, somewhat weak voice "I wouldn't ever do this to you… I just… I just want to know, Ron…"

The sound of his name seemed to have an effect on him, as he slightly shivered, his navy blue eyes glued on hers like the bond was crucial. He didn't say a thing for a moment and after inhaling deeply but also shakily, he parted his lips.

"I… I be Ebreo…"he said with his low voice and lowered his head somewhat miserably, his breathing uneven. Hermione was quite sure what he had told her and her eyes widened, her heart stopped a bit. _Hebrew…_ The pain came immense in her and rushed in her body easily, taking away every emotion that seemed to be comforting. "They… they take I before Luna come, when I work… Flora not know it and then very worree and sad for me… There I sad and pain and…" he trailed off miserably as his form started to shake, his eyes still not daring to meet hers.

"And how did you managed to go away?" she asked gently, her eyes seeking for his, wanting to see his angelic eyes and got lost in them, so she could take away his pain and they would take hers, mending each other's souls merely, yet greatly.

"I and other men make dead and then go… When I go back, I and Flora go to Sardegna so no people see we again… then Luna come and we bit happee again, but I weak and Flora care I…" he said with few words and finally his voice cracked, no holding any more strength to go on. Hermione felt a hot tear making its way across her face and she stroked his cold cheek with her palm, a motion that made the man let a soft sob escape from his lips. He hesitantly looked at her from between his auburn eyelashes, his eyes all drowned in poisonous tears that were continually producing, but never being shed. Another sob was heard and another clench made her heart ache. The look in his eyes told her everything and she nodded once before letting her hand falling to her side, as the man was already making his departure, getting away from the so tangible misery in the stuffy air. Hermione let some more tears to course down her face.

After some hour, she went back to the other room, her tears no more staining her pale face, the hurt no more stabbing her spirit so harshly. She saw Luna still sleeping on the one side of the room, looking calm in her slumber. After another moment of looking at the child, Hermione went near the dirty window, seeing the sight before her.

The nature seemed to be during its loneliest phase, as the moonlight seemed duller that night, as the silence seemed grave-like this time. On the so-strangely-immense clearing, a lost man was sitting all alone, looking like a small, weak twig in a huge valley that's tortured by a storm, all broken and vulnerable and alone. All she could see was his curled back, which was shaking violently; all the pain finally seemed to be out…. And all Hermione did was staring at him, as his pain became also hers, as his tears and throbbing became another sting in her heart.

And as she was looking at him with her wet eyes, she was hoping for the best for him, if best was still apparent in that world….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope Ron's words weren't way too confusing; he's still learning English, don't forget...! ;) And I also hope you know what to do at the moment... Some feedback would be so much appreciated! Kudos to you all and enjoy the day!!


	4. Under the starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione takes a bath in a lake, Ron hesitantly joins her, and they find a chance to discover more about each other...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I'm so very sorry for not posting sooner, but a very demanding postgraduate degree program and some very rough times make that to people... Anyways, here it is!
> 
> Well, also a little warning; some amorous scenes in this chapter...
> 
> Enjoy!

She was in the water, the cool substance covering her from her hips down. Even though the night was slightly cool, the water didn’t make her feel cold or shiver, just warm her a tiny bit. She ever so slowly took steps further into the water, the surface of the lake gradually reaching her ribs. It was very silent there, making the atmosphere peaceful and almost ideal- she managed to forget anything for a moment and let herself truly relax.

She had managed to find this small lake, during one of her little strolls. It which wasn’t very far from their little hut, so she decided to have a bath there for the first time. She had also shown this to Ron and Luna, both of whom were rather surprised but quite impressed by the serene sight of the pond. And at that night, knowing that Ron was sitting with Luna and exercising their English, she thought that it was the perfect moment; the full moon made everything shine under its stare, giving them a new value… She sighed softly, momentarily breaking the silence.

She stood motionless, just sensing the peace of the environment, the peace that could only be provided by nature now. She took a deep breath and bent her knees just so her head would dip into the water, a couple of seconds later resurfacing and the woman wiped the water from her eyes and face, taming her hair a bit to the back- the locks almost straight now. She got up and felt the numerous trickles of water to travel down her body and producing this light sound of the water, but only until silence once again surrounded her; she closed her eyes, having the need to feel one with the environment.

It must have been a couple of minutes later when she heard soft sounds breaking the quiet and Hermione opened her eyes slowly, but never turning towards the source of the sound- her instincts weren’t alarmed at all, but only remained relaxed.

She heard the water slowly and quietly being interrupted from its tranquil state- someone was getting into the lake slowly. She stayed calm and still, just hearing the so soothing echoes and imagining the person who could possibly be some meters behind her- the phantom of her imagination made her heart flutter. The sounds were hesitant and almost silent and a moment later, she heard a slightly louder noise, which was followed by intact silence again. She just counted the seconds in her head, holding her breath a little as her heart was beating a bit uneven; when she reached seven, she heard the one that had immersed, resurfacing, and a soft gasp could be heard before water coursing down a body- a body that slowly approached her form from behind. She waited.

She felt a not-so-dark shadow on her and she listened to a soft, so calming breathing at the back of her, finally deciding then on turning around. She saw him.

Her heart yelped with something so sweet that lately had captured her soul, as her eyes laid on him, seeing his so calm expression, observing his so handsome figure. He was staring down at her silently and then he whispered a soft ‘hello’ with his deep voice. She looked deeply into his so expressive eyes and whispered a ‘hi’ as a response, her mind suddenly numb and lost. He looked down at her and she felt some sort of warmth inside her, but never letting her gaze drop away from his.

“I… I can h-have bath… together? If you no… l-like, I go…” he said unsurely and looked for a brief moment at the glowing surface of the water, before his eyes gluing once more on hers. Hermione gave him a small smile.

“Of course you not- the lake is big and I’m alright with it,” she said gently and he smiled briefly at her, his eyes shining handsomely.

“T-Thank you…” he stammered softly and looked once more deeply into her eyes before taking a big step further into the water and then diving once again. Hermione looked at him as he was swimming confidently in the lake, taking dips and laying serenely on the water. As his lean, wet body was sparking under the silver starlight, her mind went elsewhere, a few weeks before, to be exact.

Her memory was still scarred by that significant day, when Ron told poured out his past and his pain. Of course she was hurting no more about those happenings- only a numb throbbing made its appearance every now and then, teasing her heart for some hour- but his words were still very clear inside her, making her losing herself in an ocean of endless thinking. As for the man himself, after that day, he seemed calmer than ever she had seen him, like his pain needed to be out after so much time of poisoning his bleeding heart. Of course sometimes he seemed a bit melancholic, but since then, he get used to spending more time with her and Luna, speaking about their lives-mostly about English and Italian traditions both of whom found interesting in hearing. Hermione, even though she couldn’t admit it, was quite glad that he was more open and, in some way, cheerful around her; it was making her gladder too.

After some odd minutes of more thinking for Hermione and of more swimming from Ron’s part, the man swam back to where she was until he standing before her form, slightly taking her breath away, even though he couldn’t possibly know that.

“I… I have s-spongge…” he whispered unsurely and looked at her from under his eyelashes. She mechanically glanced down at his hands, which were out of the water, and she noticed for the first time a small sponge in his palm; she looked back at his face, making out a rather inexplicable shyness. He lowered his eyes for a minute moment and then he looked back into her eyes. He stretched his arm a bit, holding it near her half-covered body; Hermione took a glance of it rather confusingly before looking back at him, showing him her slight perplexity.

“I… I can c-clean… you?” she suddenly heard him whispering with his unsure tone, even though this time it seemed to be like that not just because of his influent English…

She felt her cheeks get hot as his so unexpected words were still in her ears. Her mind was at a slight loss now, as she wasn’t still able to comprehend their relationship’s progression, even though it was so non-existent. She dared to look deep into those sapphire irises, into those shining depths, and she found innocence, despite the hurt and the sore experience; she found a kind of fire there, despite the calmness and the tranquility he also possessed- it was a strange fire, a powerful glow that actually was a strong emotion, an unwilling-to-die sentiment…

She recognized she felt the very same thing- even though it was still quite unidentified- in her; it didn’t frighten her.   

“Yes,” she answered him with a kind whisper, not desiring to ruin some sort of wonderful atmosphere that had been unconsciously made between them. His look changed then to something more hopeful or even surprised- she couldn’t quite understand it.  He then smiled a small, shy smile and he took a step closer to her, which made her shiver from the never-before-experienced closeness of them- it felt much more pleasant than she had expected.

Ron wetted the sponge a bit before squeezing it softly so most of the clear, fluid substance would fall back into the lake; then, he slowly and hesitantly moved his hand over her face, a second later the soft material brushed on her cheek gently. She half-closed her eyes, feeling the nearness overwhelming her as his breaths were hitting her face gracefully, his azure, animated eyes rested on her characteristics, his thump ever so lightly and tentatively was touching her skin, leaving a so lively fire on its path.

For some minutes they kept in silence and stillness, Hermione just memorizing his motions, his face, his body, while Ron was keeping on cleaning her with the sponge on her face, her neck, her collarbone, her arms; the brunette sensed his pure kindness in her spirit clearly. When he was finished, he just let his fingertips linger on the skin of her shoulder for a short moment, then his arm fell on his so visible ribs. They remained so very close to each other, just staring at each other motionless and speechless, saying with their eyes what their tongues couldn’t pronounce.

“Can I use the sponge as well?” she finally whispered after a couple of minutes of so loud silence. She made out a sudden glow in his eyes and then, only a brief moment later, he made a soft nod with his head while whispering an almost inaudible ‘yes’.

Their fingers brushed lightly while she was taking the little object from his big, thin palm, making her feel a jolt travelling in every cell of her body, and she saw a faint, rosy colour on the tips of his ears. She took it while gazing into his eyes, immersed it into the water and then she squeezed it out, before she ever so slowly led her hand towards his body, his face now wearing a look of little anticipation and calmness.

She started to gently clean the skin of his face, then of his neck and collarbone, then shoulders. Hermione noticed that he stayed motionless, only his steady breathing would make his muscles move slightly as it would also break the so comforting quietness. They looked into each others’ eyes peacefully; his eyes were, as always, very bright, but this time the colour of the irises had a darker tint of blue, one closer to dark midnight blue, making then seem like the sky during new moon- it was breathtaking…

Without realizing so, she was cleaning his left breastplate with the sponge, from where she could feel his heartbeat. She gradually stopped moving her wrist and she stared at his chest, sensing his heart’s rhythm- steady, yet rather brisk. For a moment she kept looking at his chest absentmindedly before actually returning her gaze to his eyes, seeing the serenity there and feeling it in her, as well. She felt then, rather than observed, him getting closer to her, as her heart skipped a beat before accelerating its pace, making her rather restless in her inside, despite the still apparent tranquility. They looked at each other like eternally, this kind of bond seemed more precious than gold itself, because it seemed to be everything.

Minutes later, he gently cupped her cheek with his wet palm, making her fell another jolt running through her spine. She peered at his irises, at the so dazzling depths of those eyes that had seen so much, of the eyes that were now thirsty for some mere peace. She slowly lowered her head and ever so lightly, she kissed the numbers that had been marked on his pale skin: 706853… She had already known it by heart, but she also knew something else deep into her soul, something so much important than this cruel number…

_He was the number 1 in her heart. And there would be no one else…_

His pupils shined- if that could be possible- even more and his thumb caressed her cheekbone gently and somewhat hesitantly. He titled her head up a little, so it would be as close to his as feasible, and then he made another tiny step forward…

There was no need for words. Looks, _hearts_ told everything…

His lips made contact with hers, making any other happy experience of hers just mere ashes- this one was inevitably the sweetest, the kindest, the best one ever… and it was _theirs…_

His one hand remained on her cheek while his other arm snaked around her frame, finally resting on her back. She slowly put her arms around his neck, one of her hands in his wet locks. They pulled away softly and glanced into each others’ eyes, trying to find any hint of doubt or displeasure, but when none could be found, Ron leaned closer to her face, his sweet, hot breaths hitting her skin. Their quite swollen lips were slightly parted as their noses brushed tenderly, as their half-closed eyes were still communicating. He once again closed the short distance between them, giving to her thirsty lips light feather-kisses, which gradually grew more frantic and needy, until the lips finally gave to each other what both of them wanted: a taste of what heaven should be, a momentary, yet eternally-scarred-into-the-souls, way to have peace within reach.

Minutes passed like this, with a kiss that shouldn’t be stopped till forever, unless the interruption would lead to something much greater, if that was even possible. They pulled away slowly and a bit unwillingly- how could you let something leave when you had just found it? Ron took a deep breath and stepped behind, his face glowing under the full-moon gracefully, making him look like an exotic angel that decided to come down to Earth and pray to God along with the humans, along with the mortals. Hermione felt so blissful that he chose to give his few, precious moments on this planet to her…

He took her hands in his kindly and while looking steadily into her eyes, he started to guide them out of the water, towards the shore. She followed him more than willingly, knowing that this man was actually leading her towards completion, towards infinity. Without realizing due to her hypnotized stare, they were finally out of the pond and cool breezes started to hug their half-naked bodies immediately. Hermione felt her skin almost out of her body, all of the sudden, and her teeth begun to clatter unconsciously. Ron, probably hearing the almost inaudible sound, smiled gently for a brief second before leading her, more quickly this time, towards the small hut. They entered soundlessly and Ron went with her in front of the small fireplace in which, surprisingly enough, a big fire was making soft, cracking noises, immediately making her feel much warmer. Ron bended down and then Hermione saw in his hands the one small towel he had with him. He slowly and gently started to remove all the droplets from her cool body, rubbing the soft material every now and then on her skin, just to warm her a bit. He kneeled then on the floor and he even more carefully dried off her thin legs, making her blush lightly, but still at him, as his hands were keeping on their perfect motions. While still doing so, he hesitantly kissed the skin of her calf and then the other leg’s inner side of knee, making her as a result, shiver, but not from the cold this time. When he was finally finished with his gentle process, he stood up, towering her once again and at the same time, bringing feelings of safety and security in her heart. He looked into her eyes kindly, the immortal spark still apparent in his eyes, making him more handsome than ever.

“You cold?” he whispered with concern and Hermione smiled softly despite herself, feeling so wonderful, just because of his worry about her.

“I feel much better, thank you…” she answered just as lowly, and Ron nodded softly. He gazed at her eyes, then at her lips for a moment and his fingers came closer to her face, his fingertips travelling lightly along her jaw-line, just like small feathers. Hermione gasped softly and lowered her head only a little, so her lips could touch his cold fingertips, kissing them ever so softly. Ron let another small smile to appear on his full lips and with it, he kissed her forehead, lingering on the spot for a moment.

“I go to Luna, zee she be fine… Stay…” he whispered softly and kissed her forehead once more before going to the second sort-of room there was in the hut. Hermione followed him with her lucky eyes until he was out of her visibility range, and then her eyes turned around so they could gaze at the fire, the colours warm, instantly making her remember some tints of his silken hair.

She sighed softly as she thought that probably everything reminded her of him now, her mind utterly unable to think of her life without him now. She deep down knew that whatever they had or begun to have would have so many things to endure, a war, at least and then so much more, but she didn’t care; every people deserved to have a chance at those things, even under such horrible circumstances, so she wouldn’t push these balm feelings that were blossoming in her soul go away, even if this wasn’t her own real chance…

Not a couple of minutes later- during which Hermione did nothing more than standing, staring absentmindedly into the fire and thinking of the man that had capture her entirely- and Ron came back, instantly going and standing before her, putting her face in his palms, making her look into his so beautiful eyes. They remained like this for a minute or two; words were rather worthless at moments as precious as this one. Ron let her only for a half a second, so he could lay a rather worn-out blanket on the floor before the fireplace, then he took her hands and gently both sat down, their sets of eyes never letting such a vital bond to be lost. Hermione, without much hesitation, put her hand on the still-a-bit-cool skin of his cheek, seeing him instantly half-closing his huge eyes and softly rubbing his cheek on her hand, the need of more contact was so very palpable between them. She kept looking in his sparking, loving eyes as she slowly closed the distance between them, making, as a result, her pulse adopting a brisker rhythm, while his breaths were now reaching easier her face…

Even though this wasn’t their first kiss, they were still quite hesitant as to how to caress each others’ lips with their own, desperate ones. The man leaned closer to them, showing his affection by showering them with small, tender feather-kisses, until his mouth captured her upper lip gently and softly for a brief second. When he heard her soft, almost soundless sigh, he kissed her fully on the mouth, making their hearts drunk from pure, yet intoxicating bliss, their souls full of completion and contentment.

Hermione snaked her arms around his neck once more that night, her hands reaching the wet, now auburn locks as her fingers stroked the skull soothingly, making both of them more confident to this new-found way of connection. They kissed for what seemed to be entire minutes, the two of them just lost in the feelings and the sensations. Ron broke the kiss softly, looking for a moment at her parted, swollen lips, then in her eyes. Suddenly these very eyes dropped, looking rather worriedly at her body.

“You will cold…” he whispered carefully, still a bit anxiously though, and he grabbed the neglected towel near him, then looking hesitantly at her as his hands ever so unsurely went towards her chest, where the article of clothing was still on, so cold and wet on her skin.

“I… I can?” his voice could be heard with great difficulty, but she still listened to it. She nodded softly, knowing that he wouldn’t ever even dare to harm her in any way feasible; she just had so much faith in him…

He ever so uncertainly reached her back with his rather shaky arms, his hands blindly searching for the clip of her bra. She waited patiently and totally relaxed- only some butterflies were teasing her stomach- as she was looking at his face, which was rather pink from probable embarrassment, while the orange light from the fire made his skin look more tanned. After some odd moments, the clip was unfastened and his eyes rested on hers, as his fingertips traveled across her bare back, slowly heading towards her left shoulder. When they reached it, Hermione noticed that they even more slowly, bit by bit, made the small, white strap to caress her arm, closely followed by his long fingers, until the cloth was completely out of her body. Hermione, even though it was the first time being so in nude with a man, didn’t feel self-conscious or shy or unprotected with her chest exposed; his eyes never left hers, never looked elsewhere. He blindly touched her wet, quite wintry chest with the towel and softly started to rub her skin, drying and warming it, while her stomach felt unexpectedly hot. His left, free hand searched for hers on the blanket, holding it bit before intertwining their fingers dearly- any kind of contact was vital for them now.

He kept on drying her chest with the towel as they were totally lost in each others’ gazes, but this only until the man rubbed a more sensitive spot- that got Hermione letting a soft sigh escape from her lips. She instantly felt weird, her body never felt like this before and she wasn’t sure if he was alright with it or not. She unsurely looked up to his face, wanting to see his reaction to these new-born feelings of hers- she even dared to think if she was actually _really_ passing to this strange-to-her ground, approaching those unseen territories of sexual craving…

His face was still calm from under her peering look, yet his eyes seemed somewhat different; they had a different, more alive spark in their dark depths. He slowly took away his clothed hand from her body and he put the object aside. He gradually came closer to her, his eyes only centimeters away from hers, but strangely so, this time they, even though still captivating like always, didn’t seem to intoxicate her as much as another part of his: his full, scarlet lips that were on their way to quench the thirst of hers- it was breathtaking even as a mere thought…

This kiss was a bit more frenzy than the other ones, a bit more passionate with a hint of lust… It drove both of them insane but also addicted to it, so they kept going, their need for each other only enhancing in this warm, rather sensual atmosphere…

Without realizing, neither minding though, they leaned back, so Hermione’s back gently met with the soft fabric of the blanket, while Ron was on top of her, still kissing her fully, their souls entirely into it. Ever so slowly, her one free hand traveled from the blanket up to the length of his bended arm, which was supporting his weight off of her, up to his shoulder and to the nape of his still-a-bit-wet neck, slightly bringing him even closer to her, making their bodies contact and set on fire, their bare chests pressed tightly together, and her fingers got lost in his damp, yet soft, hair.   

While kissing, Ron slowly took his hand from their still-intertwining bond, steadily guiding it fully on her arm and shoulder, leaving a burning path behind and feelings of pleasure in her waken soul. When his palm cupped the one side of her neck, his lips departed from her swollen ones, only to set on fire her jaw-line and finally, her neck, where he begun to kiss gently, yet a little passionately as well. Hermione let the sensations to fill her completely, as a new kind of _love_ was engulfing them.

He kept on kissing her neck and her breathing started to become heavier and uneven, but at the same time she needed to feel his skin with her own, to make him sense what he was so lovingly giving to her right now; love isn’t supposed to be a one-sided thing.

Her only free hand started its own way towards the man, reaching his thin waist and then, little by little and somewhat agonizingly as well, it started to head upwards, getting alive and hot his, yet still a bit moist, skin, producing goose-bumps with ease, until this palm, too, went at the back of his neck, forcing it kindly to come closer to her, actually encouraging him to keep going with his affectionate motions. Her heart swell even more and she unconsciously let another, yet heavier this time, sigh to escape from her mouth.

Meanwhile, Ron’s hand, which had faithfully stroked the side of neck till then, started its own exploring once more, this time heading downwards. His full palm caressed her collarbone, her side of her breast and her ribs, slowly and with some heat in his movements- a thing Hermione didn’t actually know he possessed until then. When his hand reached her petite waist, it pushed her lower body gently closer to his pelvis, instantly making another a very soft moan flee from her own lips. Hearing the sound, Ron produced one himself- this one was quite more desperate through its silkiness, though- sending soft vibrations all over her body. Instantly his lips found hers and they kissed each other slowly, their tongues in a sensual dance that drove them crazier for the other.

Some minutes later, all of their clothes were off, making the contact of the skin feel just like magic. The couple carried on kissing rather fervently, yet without their sweetness getting lost. As Hermione felt his soft lips mating with hers, as his tender hands were caressing her so caringly, as their bodies responded to each other so eagerly, she knew that she wanted to have this, right there, for the very first time with him, not at all feeling embarrassed by a thing; she was just grateful that she had such a brilliant man to lead her towards this king of completion.

Their kiss eventually stopped, like their minds knew what they wanted to say to each other already. Ron let his forehead fell softly on top of hers and his half-opened eyes looked straight into hers, a silent conversation taking place. As with his shining orbs asked for confirmation or refusal, she let her own eyes to show him what she felt and what she craved, being almost sure that he would see everything. And she wasn’t disappointed at all, as a moment later, his face came closer to hers, their noses brushing tenderly and their lips meeting once again in a sweet, lingering kiss that made them feel balm inside.

And as they were kissing, Hermione felt it and let a so soft moan escape from her, showing both her pain and some pleasure. Ron looked at her with a hypnotized gaze that also held worry as she felt wetness hitting her face unavoidably, as her body was trying to adjust such a beautiful difference. The man kissed away her tears and an almost inaudible cooing reached her ears and her spirit soothingly; she silent thanked him for everything.

After a couple of sweet moments, sweeter ones ensued, as heat hugged their tangled bodies, as they were physically and emotionally one, giving to each other the peace and the bliss they couldn’t find by themselves- it was at least ideal. The woman felt herself lost in a universe filled with new-born sensations and delicate sentiments, a universe she yearned to share with him, her true soulmate, _her love…_

He stared down at her eyes and straight into her soul and a second later he was giving her a heavenly dear kiss, one that absolutely confirmed same feelings; just a poring-out-love motion that set her free… She was relieved.

After their praising to love and nature, the couple just closed their eyes, giving a moment to their hot, a-bit-sweaty bodies, to their entire existences to adjust the feelings. A moment later, Hermione felt his warm lips brushing on her forehead and temple, then kissing her left cheek softly. She let a small, rather sleepy smile to reach her lips as she started to stroke his hair and skull, the gentle motion soothing them both. Minutes later of comfortable silence, Ron gradually pulled away from her, lying next to her still warm body. A moment later, she felt something soft covering her and she saw him putting a blanket on top of them. She looked at his a-bit-freckled face with eyes shining from love and awe, searching for his dark ones. The enlarged pupils stared at her and she absentmindedly leaned closer to his body, putting her face on the curve of his neck. As he was protectively putting his long arms around her body, he softly kissed her still damp hair, while she kissed his Adam apple lightly, his pale skin tender there. She suddenly heard him sighing and she hugged his slim waist, bringing them even closer. She looked up to him and he was already staring at her, his huge eyes half-closed and his face more serene than ever. He smiled lightly at her and leaned a bit, letting his full lips make contact with the value between her eyes, instantly making them close. She nuzzled her face on his chest and she heard him whispering a lovely ‘goodnight’ with his rich voice. Hermione slowly let her own lips linger on the spot where his heart was, sensing the slow and relaxing beating of it; she closed her eyes, too.

“Goodnight, Ron…” she whispered from where she was and she felt his hands rubbing her skin as a response and another kiss on her head. She felt happy and utterly calm and safe, probably for the first time after years.

And they fell asleep just like that; their immense love was more than enough to keep every pain and agony away… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be immensely grateful if you left some feedback..!  
> Anyways, have a good day and take care!! :)


	5. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day arises, and Hermione learns more about the new people in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Thanks a lot for the kudos and the subscriptions! This one is quite long, but I wanted to describe a bit more the building relationship between Hermione, Ron, and Luna. Moreover, she gets to learn more about his past.  
> Enjoy, and feel free to leave your comments!!

She woke up with a weightless feeling lingering in her chest, and she absentmindedly smiled softly with her eyes still closed. She felt some warm, hesitant sunbeams stroking her bare skin and she felt like finally waking up; if she was right, the previous night gave her more reasons to stand up and cope with whatever would come her way.

Her eyes opened sleepily and she looked rather without focus at the fireplace, where, instead of the glorious fire was only some ashes. Her mind went back to the sight of the once existent fire and of its orange tints- the warm colours brought her other thoughts, much more essential than the temporary warmth of an element. The memory of the dark blue and of the pale skin brought another, brighter smile on her lips and she instantly turned around, wanting so badly to see him again… no; she just needed to lay her eyes on him. But when she looked behind her covered back, she found… nothing…

She was immediately ready to sink in emotions of anxiousness, hurt and even mourning- she was even already able to feel her heart beginning to clench painfully-, but that only happening for a millisecond, as her eyes took a glimpse of something purple and lilac resting near her head. Curious to know what it was, she turned around fully and her eyes observed the object only for a brief second before another smile brightening her pale face. She instantly took her one hand out of the blanket and took the little bunch of wildflowers in it, bringing it near her face, smelling its delicate fragrance like it was the most precious scent after his own one. The mere thought of him made her want more than anything to see him and she instantly stood up, already looking for her clothes and getting ready.

Not many minutes later, she was finally dressed and she tried to tame with her hands her unruly hair- it most probably was the very first time she cared about making her hair more presentable… She looked around at the room but there was no sight of him, so she quickly went to the other, smaller sort of room in the hut, she eyes already restless to take even a small glimpse of him. When she was there- which only take her a couple of seconds due to her rather hurried, yet light pace- she felt her heart swelling from the mere joy, as the one person she craved to see was there along with his little daughter, his enormous eyes already looking at her, like they were waiting for her to appear since forever. A wide smile reached her lucky eyes and she instantly saw his face glowing by an identical beam; her soul felt so light, just because of his handsome, so joyful smile…

She instantly took the essential steps so she could stand in front of his sitting form, her eyes filled with this brilliant image while her ears filled with happy, cheery voices: “Hel-mimi! Hel-mimi!”

Hermione heard Ron laughing gently and she followed suit lightly, feeling lighter than a feather at the moment. Ron’s eyes were so very dazzling at the moment as his arm stretched a bit to stroke her wild locks for a moment, then cupping her cheek and instantly sending her to heaven- it was more than just amazing…

“Bongiorno, ” he said with his rich voice, his tone weightless and pleased as he was looking at her eyes. Hermione felt her cheeks a bit warmer but she smiled nonetheless and tried to say his wish back to him. “Bongiorno” she answered back, even though her accent was so flawed. Ron laughed merrily for a moment at that and leaned up to her face, giving a soft kiss to her warm, probably a bit pink cheek. Hermione let a small laugh to escape from her lips and she sat o the chair next to his and then she looked for the first time at the small, old table before them.

“I make food…” he said rather shyly and she looked back at him for a moment, making out his a-bit-flushed cheeks. She smiled gleefully and looked back at the table, where, in a plate just in front of her, were some berries and hazelnuts and next to it, a small cup was filled with a steaming drink, from its aroma, Hermione guessed that it was chamomile. She suddenly heard the little girl squealing and both she and Ron looked at her with some interest.

“Daddy cook!” she giggled merrily and the woman saw with the tail of her eye Ron blushing some and lowering his head rather shyly. “Daddy take flower too!” Luna continued and Hermione couldn’t do anything but laugh softly for a short moment, thinking that the child was so cute. She hesitantly looked at Ron, whose eyes were still staring at the floor as his ears were pink. Hermione wanted to feel some pity for him, but oh, how charming he was when he looked like that!

“Luna, tell Hermione good morning…” she then heard the man saying softly and Luna squealed as a response and jumped from her seat. The woman looked at her as she was running towards her. She waited patiently, with a small smile never leaving her face, as the little girl shyly looked up to her and whispered an also shy ‘goo molnin’. Hermione felt her heart bigger and lighter as, without uncertainty, took the girl in her arms and let her sit on her lap, kissing her head softly before starting to share her meager breakfast with the baby. After some moments, Hermione glanced coyly with the tail of her eye, at Ron, wanting to see his reaction; on his pale face there was only a shadow of a tiny smile and the mere fact worried her a bit, but as she looked a bit more carefully in his eyes, she made out contentment that was shining so brilliantly that would make evil get eternally blind… she felt something blossoming inside her and she sighed silently before taking a sip of the warm drink.

Was it possible to feel like this throughout times like those? Even though her logic said no, her heart seemed to have another opinion…

…

She spent almost her whole morning with Luna, teaching her some more English, telling her tales and singing her songs and lullabies. The little girl seemed more than just happy with the pastime, and as the brown-haired woman felt considerably lighter with the little angel, she was sure that she wanted to spend as much time with her as well. But on the other hand, it wasn’t only the balm feeling of satisfaction and glee inside her that made her more motivated, but it was also the dazzling stare of his every time he was there and able to look at them. At first, Hermione had thought that maybe Ron was quite uncomfortable with it, that he may not want her so close to his daughter, but of course, the prospect seemed ludicrous even to her after a good moment of better judgment. Evidently, the brilliance of his crystal blue eyes wasn't apparent because of uncertainty, but due to some gladness and maybe even admiration. Hermione always felt her cheeks warmer because of this, but she was also happy to know that she most probably was one of the reasons this handsome shine in his bottomless eyes was existent.

She then looked down, merely escaping from the comforting thoughts so she can focus on the girl that’s sleeping in her arms. Hermione smiled softly to herself as she stroked the girl’s long hair soothingly. Surely the day so far was exhausting for the child and a nap after meager lunch was absolutely necessary for her. She smiled to herself once more, the sight way too comforting for her soul and after another moment, she covered Luna with a blanket and let her sleep comfortably.

She silently went to the other room and instantly before the window, her pupils restless as they were trying to catch a glimpse of Ron’s tall figure. After some moments of searching, she hadn’t still managed to lay her eyes on the person her heart desired to see at the moment greatly.

“What so interesting?”

The deep voice startled her and she looked behind her with her breathing still heavy and her hand on her chest, trying to soothe poorly the wild beating of the vital organ in her ribcage. She eventually saw Ron sitting on the floor, his lips wearing a funny smile at the moment that also showed some of his pearly teeth. His gentle chuckling was barely audible as she was approaching him with a steady, slow pace, an eyebrow of hers shot up at him.

“Answer” he spoke again, his soft voice lingering in her ears like a prayer. She was sure she was sitting comfortably next to him and looking at his handsome face before opening her mouth.

“Well…” she started slowly, looking around innocently as if she was trying to find an excuse- yet the smile broadened on her face. “I was looking for someone…” she whispered rather conspiratorially to him and she saw him shaking a bit from the soundless sniggering. It took him a moment to stop and after that, Hermione felt the warmth of his arms as he was wrapping them around her shoulders and waist, bringing her slightly closer to his body.

“I know who?” he whispered with a falsely tiny voice which immediately made Hermione giggle lightly, feeling exceptionally, yet necessarily, lighter and restful; she thought naively that it wouldn’t harm to play along with it for some minutes that were entirely theirs.

“No” she just said positively and she shook her head to prove her point. Ron, while looking back at her with a mock, surprised look and wide eyes, he shook his head as well, mirroring in a child-like way her motions. She giggled once again for a second and he smiled gently, the brightness of the pale face and of the innocent eyes were shooing away the evidence of the torturous past or the tiredness; she was glad for that.

“Then meet,” he said simply and kissed the tip of her nose affectionately, making her feel balm in her stomach. She looked at him lovingly and he wholeheartedly returned the look, set her heart free; she glanced down, sighing lightly while she felt his hand stroking slowly her forearm, and she made out then an open pocket-knife on his lap along with a rather small stick. As she looked closer, she observed the beautiful inscribes on it and she immediately looked up to the man.

“What is this?” she asked him kindly, her finger pointing on his lap. He took a glance before meeting her eyes once more, and he parted his lips slowly.

“Nothing,” he said and shrugged gently, as he was looking at her face “You know I work wood and I see wood and I want to cut it some” he explained casually and for moment he looked ahead, his eyes a bit unfocused. The brunette examined his profile for a bit as she felt the stillness of his hand, not knowing exactly what to do so he could be out of this sad state.

“You miss your work, don’t you?” she finally asked and that instantly seemed to bring him back to reality, as he exhaled and looked back at her.

“Yes” he whispered sincerely and he briefly looked down at the space between them before raising his head once again. “Mean lots”. Hermione was able to make out a quite vulnerable look deep into his eyes and without hesitation, she cupped his cheek with her palm, feeling some stubble making contact with her skin; in a tick, she saw Ron giving her a small, thankful smile.

“Were you working alone?” she asked then slight curiously, wanting to know as much of him as possible. It suddenly then occurred to her if this probably made Ron feel uncomfortable, but the hand of his that started once again its soothing motions on her arm was more than an honest reply.

“No, I work with brother, William, learn from papa” he replied and a small smile plastered on his face, the memories appeared to have a bittersweet effect on him. “We have good time together”. The woman gave him a sweet smile and her arms snaked loosely around his slim waist, making the bodies coming even closer to each other. A second later, she felt her head being kissed and in response, she kissed lightly below his jaw-line, the rather rough stubble there tickled her lips, but she let a tiny smile appear nevertheless.

“What about the rest of your family?” she asked softly and closed her eyes contentedly; the warmth emitted from him was utterly welcoming. As her breathing became even steadier, she felt his big palms rubbing the back smoothly and his chin rested gently on top of her head.

“Carlo be farmer, love animals… he have farm near house at Napoli and we brothers go there and ride horses and go in forest, have fun” the man started softly another of his fascinating sort of memoirs, his rich, expressive voice silky and so gentle, like a feather was tickling dearly her eardrums. “Then Pier, he be very clever and love books, so he be then Rabbi and every Hanukah we be home and lit candles and pray together, very happy”.

He only stopped his soft talking to take a breath and kiss once again her hair. As he started speaking again, Hermione buried herself in his torso and he put his arms more tightly around her, like he never wanted her to go; the woman didn’t want that, too, so she gently nuzzled in his chest for a moment while she was listening to his words:

“Freyde and Giorgio born together and make joke all time- they be always cheerful and laugh… when old, they be clown and child happy and laugh and give candy” Hermione heard him laugh softly for a short moment before beginning his little story again, this time one of his hands stroking her unruly curls. “After, I born, but I boring so then be Virginia, little sister…” he sighed at the mention of the name but he kept on, “We all love Virginia, she be little girl after many, many boys and when old enough, mama teach Virginia cook and knit and then she marry Harry, Catholic friend, and they have many child and happy”.

He finished with another, almost inaudible sigh and they remained silent for a couple of minutes comfortably. Hermione was thinking of all the things Ron said about his big family, all seemed special and very, very happy and caring with each other; however, the woman couldn’t pass by his tone at the end, when he was talking about his sister’s family, especially about the children she had with her husband. The tone seemed quite heavy and cheerless and then a thought occurred to her: maybe it was his dream, as well, to have a big, happy family and live all together, however, he got nothing from this… He once made a family only to be separated by prejudice, cruelty, then death and war… The only that he probably had now was his daughter, and her only in deep desperation to keep her safe and sound, in a poor environment that meagerly provided her the necessary.

“And you?” she suddenly heard his voice, which brought her instantly back to reality, “Tell me,” he asked her softly and rubbed comfortingly her back and hair, making her feel calm, even though she suddenly became a bit worried and restless on the inside. Her heart started fluttering and her pulse points were trembling madly; she had to be calm, just for the two of them.

“Well, I’m quite uninteresting as a person, you see” she started lightly, commanding on her heart to stop this wild pace immediately altogether, “No big family, not even brothers or sisters to spent my time with!” she tried poorly to crack some sort of joke and she felt his palms rubbing her back more reassuringly and warmly.

“I have lot, we can have together,” he said lightly and he breathed a so weightless laugh that made her shiver briefly, nevertheless. She inhaled shakily, a ridiculous way to laugh back gently, even though she was very grateful for his so kind manner of showing his probable interest or his willingness to sooth her even in the slightest.

“Thank you, Ron, but I’m alright” she answered gently and shortly after he gifted her with another kiss on her hair. “Well, I lived at England with my parents, a small, quite family, but really loving and caring for each other. They taught me a lot of things and I inherit their love for books, so although I haven’t much company, I always had my books.”

She stopped for a bit, thinking about what else was harmless for telling him, but she couldn’t think much. She kept listening to his steady heart-beating and his slow breathing, his motions so tender, just like himself, but she didn’t hear his voice. She realized that his palms’ movements were slightly slower and she wondered if he was thoughtful about something. He didn’t speak for some moments and she didn’t dare to break the consoling silence that was embracing them, so she just let herself get lost in him, and she closed her eyes slowly, feeling her head lighter as the seconds were flowing. She was about to fall asleep when she suddenly heard his relaxing voice.

“No friends?” he asked with a tiny voice that seemed a bit childish and naïve. Hermione now wanted to look into his dazzling eyes, to get lost in their so-strangely-intact innocence, to get reassured and comforted by their pureness, but his arms and body were too soft, warm and appealing to be away from them now, so she just tried to imagine them as successfully as feasible.

“Not actually, no, but I had quite a few cousins with whom I spent many time and had much fun; well, every now and then I would chat some with some classmate, but I hadn’t a real friend or something” she confessed softly, feeling a bit sad herself for being like this while younger, but she knew that past was inerasable and regretting about it would only bring depression, thus a present as flawed as the said past; she exhaled quite dejectedly.

“I sorry” she heard after a long moment his apologetic, so sincere voice lingering in her ears and then she felt vaguely surprised, because she didn’t expect a response to her words. She finally pulled a bit away from his warm torso, his arms still around her petite body as she looked up to him, seeing the slightly burnt skin of his face and the warm colour of his gleaming irises- she was surely lost in the sight.

“For what?” she asked after a moment of staring in each other’s eyes with a combination of various, different emotions. Ron let a small, quite sad smile to appear on his mouth for a brief second before letting it leave him. The woman was about to mourn for the loss but a second latter, she felt one of his warm palms covering her left cheek, the contact electrifying, yet relaxing, and her heart was gradually melting gladly.

“You alone… it be sad, right?” Ron whispered with his somewhat remorseful tone still coloring his rich voice while his thumb gently caressed her briefly closed eyelid. Hermione inhaled shakily under his dear touch and she opened her eyes slowly, looking at him before answering.

“To be honest, I sometimes felt distant from my environment and as a girl this made me a bit sad, but it’s alright, I guess… no hard feelings or something” she whispered back and with her eyes she tried to show him that it was like this, so he shouldn’t be saddened by this at all.

“I sorry” he repeated softly, his eyes still a bit stained from the unreasonable guilt he was most probably feeling. She smiled reassuringly up to him and his thumb stroked lightly her cheekbone as a response.

“No need to be sorry- I’m fine now,” she told him with a quite sweet tone in her low voice and he briefly smiled brilliantly at her, his eyes seeming quite less troubled after her simple words of assurance. They gazed at each other’s eyes for a split second after which Hermione had to deal with an exceedingly fast pulsation and a lost breath; his face was steadily leaning closer to hers…

The plain act of dear fondness warmed her crazy heart swiftly, and his arms tightened lovingly and caringly around her, his balm lips still engaged with hers amorously. Her hands without much difficulty found their way on his chest, her one palm resting on top of his heart while they were kissing each other slowly; time slowly dragged away from them, leaving them essentially alone.

After some unknown moments, they slowly pulled away from each other, even if their hands and arms were still around the other’s body. They looked at each other for a short moment; their sentiments poured out entirely before Ron slowly leaned again and kissed her above her eyebrow, his full lips lingering a bit on the spot. Hermione felt so safe there, with him at the moment and she let a satisfied, small smile to reach her lips. The man immediately smiled back at her beautifully and he took her once again in his arms; Hermione keenly buried herself in his broad, warm body and they stayed like that for some time unknown, with her staying like that serenely while the redhead man was stroking her hair and humming some sweet melodies. Hermione got lost in the gentle sounds as Ron was stroking her curls more and more soothingly, until her breathing, ever so slowly, started to be deeper and more even, her eyes closed peacefully. Without realizing and without minding, she lost herself in his sweet existence and in wonderful dreamland…

…

She woke up with a so strange feeling of renewal inside her, but she rather liked it so she let an inaudible sigh to escape from her. She turned a bit her body, so she could nuzzle on his arms and maybe even kiss his covered chest, but his arms- or his entire body for the matter- was nowhere to be felt, despite the warm softness she was able to feel around her body. She gradually opened her eyes and after rubbing them with the back of her hand, she looked around expectantly, only to see herself lying on the floor with a small, worn pillow under her head and an also worn blanket around her body. A smile easily appeared on her face as the thought of Ron putting gently her head above a pillow and covering her body with the cloth was so sweet and overwhelming; she sighed again.

She finally sat up and after yawning lightly and stretching a bit, she stood up, her pupils instantly looking around with some anticipation. Of course, the search wasn’t at all long, as the one person she wanted to lay her eyes on was already on the very same room, yet on its far end. Hermione looked at him curiously and it took her some moments to understand what he was doing; when she did however, she actually discovered a whole new side of him, in a way and that made her respect him even more.

He was standing very close to the stony wall of the room, his face only millimeters away from it. His forehead was gently resting on the hard stone as his eyes were closed and cast down, exactly the way his head was. His posture was a bit shrunk now, holding a so humble air around it, while his hands were holding a rather small, open book. His face seemed very engrossed to what he was doing at the moment, his expression serious, yet serene as well, as his lips were a bit parted, mouthing with respect and faith precious words of hymn.

Hermione gazed at him lovingly for another second before going silently to the other room, wanting to let him pray alone and peacefully.

When she reached the other room, her sight was immediately filled with the girl, who was sitting beneath a small blanket, her eyes wide and maybe a little scared as she was all alone, curled body at the far corner of the little room. Hermione understood perfectly her fear, as Luna most probably woke up to find no one near her, so the woman approached her slowly and peacefully, not wanting to startle her with any way. The sound of her soft steps and her more clear presence in the room made Luna to look up half-afraid, half-expectantly and when she round, blue-grey eyes laid on her, the child seemed much more relieved and gleeful. Hermione gave her a sweet smile as she went and sat next to her, instantly responding in the open, awaiting arms of the girl with her own, longer ones since she gently took her in her hug.

“Did you sleep well, Luna?” Hermione asked softly, stroking the long, wavy hair of the child in her arms. The girl looked up to her with shiny eyes that were holding something that seemed like worship; she nodded vividly and smiled stunningly.

“I’m sorry dear that I wasn’t there when you woke up, but I feel asleep just like you” Hermione said then with some apology, yet sweetness as well, in her voice and then the child giggled a bit as her eyes widened comically, showing some surprise about the older one’s ‘inattention’; the brunette could do nothing but laugh softly, too. As Hermione kept on stroking the baby’s hair and massaging the skull, and some moments later, Luna leaned on her body, her cheek resting on the spot above her heart. The silent moment was comfortingly serene and Hermione was just lost in this land of complete sentiments, feeling oddly composed by just caressing the girl’s silken locks. Suddenly, the woman was able to hear the angelic voice of the little girl.

“You… you new mama?”

She was entirely able to hear the hesitation in her voice, but God… The question made Hermione stay completely still, her eyes gazing into vacancy as the echoes of the innocent voice were still in her ears, making her heart so restless and full with questions, all of the sudden- what was that able? She took a so deep breath and tried to compose herself as much as possible, her mind spinning while trying to find an answer to the child’s so pure question; she suddenly wanted to cry until there was no more water and salt in her system.  

“Luna…” she whispered to her with quite cracked voice that made her shiver. She looked down, looking at the girl that was staring back at her with so huge, shining eyes and she instantly thought of Ron, but the thought wasn’t as comforting as she had hoped… How could she… could she _replace_ in any way the woman both of them were so close with… “I… I don’t know, dear…” she finally finished her sentence, even though in her mind suddenly appeared millions of thoughts, doubts and possibilities, an endless sea without a tiny rock somewhere to clung on, to save your helpless existence.

She really felt so helpless out of the blue, but she tried with everything she had to put aside the new-born fears of emotional rejection and neglect.

Luna was still staring at her with her brilliant eyes and a second later, she was smiling coyly at her. Hermione smiled back briefly and brushed the long hair with her thin fingers, liking the soft feeling much.

“Would you like to make your hair?” the woman then said out of the blue, the mere idea suddenly popping into her mind. She looked down expectantly and she immediately saw Luna nodding vigorously up to her, her beautiful eyes smiling to her innocently- she felt instantly better. The girl then stood away from her lap and when Hermione opened her bended legs, she eagerly sat between them, her head taking a good position for the hair-making. Hermione took all the hair in her hands and brushed them gently with her hands before letting them all fall on her back and them separating them so she could make a lovely twist.

“Hello”

The voice quite startled Hermione for the second time that day, but she immediately looked up, momentarily forgetting about Luna’s hair. Ron was standing under the doorway, looking at them with a smiling face that was glowing handsomely. Whatever traces of fear and doubt were immediately vanished from her soul as the beautiful sight filled her completely, making her feel quite weightless. She then heard the girl’s cute squeals as her dad was approaching them, kissing is daughter’s forehead and her own cheek sweetly, kneeling next to them and looking at them with sparkly eyes.

“Papa! Hel-mimi make hail!” Luna exclaimed happily as she was looking with identically round eyes on her father; when the man heard his daughter, he laughed a bit gently.

“That a good thing, right?” he said lightly and stood up before sitting on the floor once again, but this time behind Hermione, their bodies almost touching as he let his long legs to be on each side of her own ones, while his arms wrapped loosely around her, reaching easily the girl’s knees. He secretly gave a chaste kiss on the back of her neck and he let his head rest on top of her left shoulder. The woman felt really warm inside her, as she let her back rest on his torso; she then took a deep breath before finally starting to braid the child’s so long hair, all the environment and the process so very peaceful and endearing… She wouldn’t mind being like this for the rest of her life…

Minutes passed easily like this, with Ron having both of them in his arms while Hermione was making Luna’s hair. Every now and then, Luna would say something random to the older ones, making them laugh merrily of her innocence and her pure lovability or Ron would sing ever so softly some song from his homeland, making the brunette getting lost in the perfect voice and in the unknown words; her heart was drown in difficult-to-be-found sentiments of mere bliss. As another minute passed, Hermione suddenly heard Luna’s girly voice once more: 

“Papa?” she said rather impatiently, probably wanting to know that she had her father’s entire attention.

“What, Luna?” Ron asked her gently, his eyes looking interestedly at his daughter’s little back. As Hermione was making the girl’s hair, she heard it:

“Mama give Hel-mimi, light?” she spoke expectantly, the naïve voice lingering in their ears, but…

Oh, my…

Hermione instantly felt the man’s body froze; the muscles stiff around her and his chin on top of her shoulder was clenched for a millisecond before starting quivering rather uncontrollably. Her own blood froze and she didn’t know what to do as the air around them suddenly seemed heavy and stuffy.

“I…” she heard Ron started saying, but he trailed off and the woman felt the violent contractions of the muscles in his upper abdomen, which made her feel so very sorry for him. “No idea, my Luna…  maybe yes…” he finally managed to finish with awfully shaky voice and brought wetness in her eyes, both from hurt because of his state but also from his words that brought weird feelings of unidentified questions, of warmth tangled with confound and slight oddity; did he really believe those words?

She felt his face buried on the curve of her neck and her hair, inhaling deeply yet unsurely as he was most probably trying to compose himself. A single droplet hit her bare skin and she tried hard not to gasp, both those restless souls needed probably her comfort, which was more than agreeable to give them. With as much steady hands as she could muster, she finished the plait and after tying gently its end, she gave a kiss to the girl’s head. Luna turned around and smiled happily to the woman, while she felt Ron hiding his face behind her shoulder plate, probably in unreasonable, yet understandable shame.

“Thank” Luna exclaimed gleefully and hugged her with her tiny arms for a brief moment before standing up and going eagerly to their side. “Papa, you like hail?”

The brunette heard the almost inaudible sniffing and a deep inhalation before the man finally raised his head slowly, looking up to his one daughter. Hermione instantly made out the so wet eyes and the few damp trickles on his face as his swiftly-so-tired eyes were glued up to the child, and she felt quite miserable; she saw Ron smiling up to the girl only a little.

“So beautiful” he just said with his hoarse voice and his eyes suddenly seemed somewhat unfocused, facing sights too far away from the mere room. Luna though appeared to notice the awful state of her father, as her eyes widened and she looked quite terrified.

“Papa?” she whispered with some fear in her voice as her one hand hesitantly went towards her father, touching his thin cheek unsurely. Ron appeared to try hard to twist the corners of his eyes more upwards, just to reassure this girl that everything was alright, that he was as strong as he should be only for his daughter.

“No worry, Luna… something in eye” he said quickly, his voice steadier this time as to reassure the child with the lame, so-common excuse. The girl already seemed quite calmer and suddenly Hermione heard Ron’s voice getting louder and more alive, which surprised her a bit.

“Luna, want see some magic?” he exclaimed with falsely cheerful tone that Hermione managed to identify but of course the 4-year-old child wasn’t able to do so; the child’s face lit up right away and she nodded vividly, looking with wide eyes full of anticipation at her father. “Then close eyes” he instructed her then and the girl, without hesitation did as said, shutting firmly her eyes. With this, Hermione turned a bit her head around, looking with some sadness at the man, who was roughly and hurriedly wiping away all the evidence of his ache from his face and then wiping his eyes with his sleeve painfully hard, as if he was punishing himself for letting his offspring seeing him like this. When he was sure that he was ok, he breathed deeply and then told his daughter to open her eyes. When Luna obeyed eagerly, Ron let a huge smile to be plastered on his face- even though it never reached his eyes- and his arms shot up in the air, like he was presenting something awesome.

“Ta-ta!” he said in a quite sing-song voice and he tried to make his false smile even wider while he was looking steadily up to his little girl, his breath most probably being held until a reaction was come from her part. “See? Papa happy and love his Luna!” he continued with hollowly merry voice that broke her heart a bit, but she just looked at the girl, who was giggling innocently to him before going and burying herself in his big torso. Ron wrapped his arms tightly around the girl’s small body and kissed her hair with sealed eyes and some force in his lips, his large hands rubbing the body comfortingly. Hermione lost a part of herself in the sight that brought inside her thousands of conflicting emotions which tried to tame, at least for now. After some long moments, Ron let the girl out of his arms and as he was stroking her cheek with his palm, he spoke softly:

“Want go inside and play with ball and sticks?” When Luna showed her desire to do so with a high-pitched ‘yes’, Ron smiled absentmindedly for a split second before continuing, “Go then and stay there, no outside, yes?” When the little girl nodded vigorously, her eyes filled with pure happiness, Ron nodded as well, probably just an unconscious reaction to her own one. “I be there soon” he confirmed her sweetly and as a result, the child nodded once more swiftly before running with a little squeal towards the other, larger room. Hermione’s eyes followed the gleeful girl for a bit, her mind elsewhere but unknown where exactly, until she heard a small sound and her eyes instantly travelled towards the redhead man, anxious to see his state.

His eyes were firmly closed, the back of his head resting weakly on the wall and his lips were parted, breaths thoughtfully being taken from the weary existence; a tear that was loosely hooked on his long eyelashes managed to fall on the skin and slowly start its journey towards the cliff of his jaw-line- towards the poorly mended wound in his heart. She heard a weak sob that motivated her to go nearer him and stroke his forearm.

“I’m sure everything will be alright” she whispered softly, not knowing what else to him; of course she knew that promising fragile things to a desperate soul wasn’t a very wise thing, but comforting was all that had left to caress his abused spirit- she really wanted to cure him...

She saw him opening gradually his eyes after a moment of silence, the enlarged pupils already staring at her with despair. “Sometimes... sometimes it so hard… Luna a lot like her and when she ask for mama… I cannot give it Luna… I no good papa…”

“Don’t say that ever again!” Hermione instantly hushed him seriously, her palm firmly on top of his slightly cool cheek while trying to show him with her eyes that the words steamed from her heart, not from her pity. “What I see every single day, whatever you do for Luna… it’s just immeasurable! You are more than just a great father to her, Ron…”

The words, along with the sound of his name from her lips seemed to be an efficient support for the man, as the look at the depths of his eyes became less hard, while his breathing became more even. He sighed silently, as if letting as the invisible weight to lift for a moment from his chest and shoulders and he took her hand from his cheek in his own one, the thump shakily stroking the knuckles. Hermione smiled reassuringly at him as he pulled her in his life-depending embrace, making both of their hearts less miserable and more oblivious to the cruelty of the world out of this hut. The woman let her eyes close while she smelled his sweet scent and forgot about everything else- he was the centre of the entire universe. His warm lips lingered on the top of her head for a moment and then she felt those same lips brushing on her hair as her ears heard the so kind words:

“Thank you…”

She silently told him that he had nothing to thank her about; she was the one thankful, thanking fate for sending him in her own path called as _‘life’_ …

…

She was there, in front of the fire, gazing at the dancing flames vaguely, only comforted by the warm caresses it sent her way. She then took a glance of the sleeping girl at the other side of the room, sighing at the peaceful sight there. She herself felt quite tired and sleepy, so she decided to lean on the blanket under her body, her eyes still fixed on the small, yet calming fire. She didn’t know how many more minutes she was looking at the element during its proud state in the fireplace, until some of her sleepiness flew away as she felt a pair of strong arms encircling her middle from behind, her back then making contact with another body. Her heart fluttered delightfully and she forgot all about the fire, instantly turning around so she could face him. When she did so, his eyes met with hers and a tiny, adorable smile appeared on his glowing-by-firelight face; he seemed calmer now, as the night had reached them, and a small smile made also its way on her face, as she felt calmer herself, seeing him like this.

They didn’t speak as his hands once again started to rub soothingly the small of her back, their sets of eyes holding a silent conversation. Contentment engulfed them gracefully as their bodies touched, as their spirits were now bonded tightly, yet no painfully…

“You be so beautiful…” he whispered unexpectedly, his eyes shining lovingly as the words were out, lingering on the air and in her ears. She felt her heart in total ease and her cheeks were suddenly a bit flushed from some traces of shyness inside her; however, she looked up to him and with the tiny smile still on his lips, he kissed her cheeks kindly. When he pulled a bit away to look in her eyes, he inhaled a bit deeply before saying more words.

“Maybe… Maybe Luna right… Maybe Flora send you to we… a good woman be with…” he whispered quite unsurely, yet his voice didn’t crack or shake when he pronounced his wife’s name- it was wholly steady. The words’ meaning was vast and she gasped softly, slightly uncertain if her presumptions were even in the slightest rational, so she hesitantly looked up to his enormous eyes, to this pools of pure sentiments- she wasn’t at all disappointed, neither she nor her hopeful heart…

“I… I l-love you…” he whispered ever so gently to her, his eyes sparkling angelically as he was starring at her; her heart most probably hadn’t felt this kind of harmony and completion before…

“I love you, too” she whispered almost inaudibly and as a quiet response to this, his eyes smiled and the exhaustion disappeared like it was never there to blemish them. The man hugged her tighter, bringing her closer to his chest, letting her hear the response of his heart to her little, four words- the so brisk, merry rhythm made her feel drunk from glee.

Then, the sweet breaths of his were caressing the skin of her face relaxingly and she looked up to him immediately, new-found enthusiasm underlined in her motions. They didn’t actually need to look into each other’s eyes this time; their childlike enthusiasm leaded them now and they instantly leaned closer to each other, letting them meet in a merry, pure, lingering kiss that confirmed everything, even though there wasn’t a need to…

Maybe war was able to ruin lives, to tarnish and rape souls, to exterminate nations and destroy entire worlds, but love was able to rebuild and mend everything and everyone under its healing touch…

Yes, it’s true that light vanquishes darkness… and that was the inevitable evidence of it…


	6. Truth & Abyss

She was humming quite off-key as she was attempting to sweep meagerly the floor with a half-broken broom she had accidently found in the small closet. As she was passing before the fireplace, her eyes fell on the girl some distance away, who was now playing with a couple of quite thin, wooden dolls Ron had made for her the other day. She secretly smiled to herself for a moment before resuming her housework lighter in soul, thinking of the few bright stains she was grateful to have through this dark, shadowy chapter of the world’s life. Oh, she now lived to acquire such stains from the two most unexpected people she could think of giving her such things, yet she was even more appreciative it was actually them- she really was. 

Her head snapped up the moment she heard the door opening and she welcomed with her smiling face the man who entered the hut, who was bringing, along with his presence, the aura of a vast, forgotten forest during the start of the autumn and the evening of a mild summer. He looked at her as well, his face calm and then also bright, as a genuine smile appeared on his thin face.  She momentarily forgot all about the little girl a few meters away and as she let the broom fall on the floor, she run to him and fell in his arms, even surprising herself with the actions. Ron, as well, seemed quite surprised but a second later he was laughing merrily and he hugged her back tightly, savouring the bliss of the moment maybe even hungrily. A huge smile appeared on her face while the echoes of his laughter were still audible in between the walls of the ancient hut, giving a different, more alive essence at the stone and the wood. A moment later, she also felt something tightly wrapped around her knees and it only took a glimpse to realize that the beautiful girl was hugging their legs happily, surely wanting to participate in this minute moment of contentment. The man’s chuckle was once again audible and he bended down to effortlessly take his daughter in his arms, putting her between them. Luna instantly giggled merrily and after kissing her daddy’s cheek soundly, she eagerly put her tiny arms around Hermione’s neck, hugging her in an also life-depending bond. Her blood surely couldn’t find more motivation for keep its pace than this one.  

After some minutes of doing actually sweet nothings all together, Ron let Luna on the ground and they went further into the room as he let a bucket full of wood near the fireplace. As Luna went once again back to her corner, playing with her meager toys, Ron came near the brunette and after kissing her cheek affectionately he whispered with awe: 

“Nice welcoming…” he said and giggled almost inaudibly for a second, his cheeks getting slightly redder as his shiny eyes were staring at her. Hermione’s eyes threw him a mock glare while a tiny smile appeared on her lips and she lightly hit his forearm, liking the little interaction between them.  

“It was just on the spur of the moment, so don’t get your hopes up!” she said with a falsely angry tone in her otherwise laughing voice. The man’s already enormous eyes widened theatrically and he opened his mouth like he was letting a silent gasp free, looking at her mistakenly offended.  

“I say I sorry for last night, Miss Granger!” he said with his low, childishly stubborn tone as his eyes sparkled with innocent glee and so lovable playfulness, so the woman found it exceptionally difficult to even be teasingly annoyed with him. “I know” she whispered sweetly to him and her fingers played tenderly with the collar of his worn shirt, her eyes shyly cast down. She then heard the man sighing softly and rubbing for a moment her shoulder-blades soothingly and after he glanced towards his daughter’s side, he secretly gave her a chaste kiss on the lips, his own ones turned upwards in a breathtaking, gentle smile. They were like this for a few more seconds until they unwillingly pulled away from each other’s arms, knowing that their stolen moments alone would be existent only moments after Luna would close her eyes for slumber. Hermione tried to composure herself with deep breaths and inner thoughts of mild reassurance until she went back to her attempts of house-working, this time dusting off with a leaky, very old cloth. Of course that only for some minutes until the redhead man was standing right behind her, so close that she was clearly able to feel his breaths caressing her thirsty skin. She turned around quickly, slightly not wanting to be once more a victim of his immense and pure kindness and love- at least not so quickly…   

“What is it?” she asked rather curiously, not really understanding why was he acting like this now; she knew very well that he was somewhat careful with his fondness around his child and his difference in moods was quite inexplicable to her. 

He looked at her with big, innocent eyes, probably quite unsure and curious himself about her behaviour, but a second later he smiled coyly at her. “I just… well, I find this when out and I think you may want to see it… You can read, I not- it be English” he said gently and Hermione was instantly about to ask him what he meant but the answer was given even before the question was out: Ron’s hand appeared at the space between them, gently holding what seemed to be some old leaflet. Hermione’s eyes widened quite unconsciously as she was staring at the typed pages in his hand, quite unable to believe that he had accidentally what appeared to be a…  _a newspaper_. 

“Oh my God…” she only managed to say quite breathlessly and absentmindedly she grasped it, taking it away from his hand like a starving man would grab a loaf of bread he found on street. She immediately looked at the front page, and as her eyes scanned the little letters feverishly, she exhaled gladly when she understood that it was indeed an English newspaper. She quickly checked the typed date on the front; it was a week’s old… so it seemed like she was going to get some news from the world after centuries, really, of hiding… 

Ron looked at her from behind, a tiny, knowing smile on his full lips, his blue eyes somewhat more relaxed as he was witnessing her eagerness. She noticed that and she turned around right away, hugging him so very tightly that she could feel the calm, steady heartbeats of his from inside the ribcage.  She let him go a moment later, gazing up into his eyes with a grateful, sweet look in hers. 

“I cannot really believe that you found something like this… it’s wonderful! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed with a thrilling tone and immediately unfolded the newspaper, taking in keenly the headlines and the articles, suddenly so overly desperate to know about what had happened outside this untouched forest. She heard faintly the sound of a momentary, almost inaudible chuckle as the Italian went to the other side of the room, probably wrapping Luna’s clothes tighter around her tiny body or something similar. She let her mind wandering around the mater no longer, the thirst of news, with the passing of the time more crucial and less unnoticeable, so she set loose her second nature, her hunger for every kind of knowledge, and her pupils wildly travelled across the tiny lines.  

The scheme seemed by no ways unfamiliar, yet it was still so painful to witness with any way this inhuman, even animalistic malice that had engulfed the wounded soil and polluted the innocents’ air so brutally. As the hours passed quickly and the brunette kept reading the articles with despair and agony in her hyperactive system, she finally came across the lines fates had arranged to send her way… 

 _…Victims of the attack- Tiel, 24 August 194_ _4_  

Between the hundreds of names, her eye caught two that seemed so very familiar… 

 _… Diana G. Granger, 25_  

 _Eric J. Granger, 28…_  

Hermione Granger felt her legs suddenly shaking violently and her feet standing on no earth, like she was in the middle of brutal nowhere, where abuse and suffer were more tangible than your own skin and bones, where misery was even below mild, where death was paying visits every single moment. 

She really wasn’t able to feel the wetness on her cold, sickly pale skin, she wasn’t able to hear the oncoming sobs and she wasn’t able to realize she had fallen into blackness due to the acidic blurriness of her drowning eyes. 

 _This just couldn’t be true…_  

Not seconds later, she felt herself being wrapped in the warm, tight embrace that she surely needed, yet feared of permanently loosing right now, just because of the deep blow life had beat her with. She sobbed hoarsely as she buried her face in the softness of his torso, desperate to feel something, if not more, at least as touchable as the fatality she had just witnessed. 

“What wrong, Hermione?” she heard his concerned voice and she cried more, the loss she was feeling even more painful because of the dreadful outcomes that popped in her restless head like an inescapable snowstorm. She felt her arms and back being rubbed reassuringly instantly and after some moments her face being removed from its position, so her wet eyes would look up to his anxious, now dull-blue ones.  

“What happen?” he said with the worry escaping freely out from his pale lips, the muscles of his face being pulled back almost unhandsomely from the fear and the so unhidden anxiety that prevailed inside him. She sobbed softly, obligating herself to be weaker right now; if she had to grieve- which she needed to do so- she would do it the way they deserved it. She tried to calm some her uneven breath, but the lack of response from her part seemed to concern him even more.  

“Hermione?” he whispered with a somewhat weak tone in his tiny voice, his eyes scarily widened now and glassy, his thin face drained of all the blood; even his comforting hands seemed to freeze and petrify on her body. She had to answer now, just because she couldn’t see him like this- it hurt more than explainable. 

“The newspaper… it told about deaths… my cl-closest cousins d-died…” she finally said out loud the truth her spirits didn’t want to accept, the one thing she didn’t dare to stomach. Moments passed like eons and she felt the man’s huge palms petrifying on her body slowly once more, this time more painfully, as unknown mumbles of Italian words set loose from his dry, pale lips. Then cooing ensued, as the tall figure hugged her more tightly and every cell of him seemed activated now, taking unquestionably the task of soothing her as much as possible. At the feel of his gentleness and reassurance, Hermione let all her walls and insecurities aside and she freely started to cry and sob, while her hands unconsciously clutched on him like he was life itself- even though to her, it didn’t make much of a difference now.  

Moments flowed quickly and suddenly Hermione, despite all the mourning, was able to hear hesitant, almost soundless footsteps nearing them and after another moment, they were followed by soft and quite curious a: “Papa? Why Hel-mimi cly?”   

The gentle noise made both of them startle and look at little Luna with some anxiety. Hermione instantly turned around so she could hide the tears from the child, while Ron kneeled down to her, hugging her loosely with his quite shaky arms. 

“Nothing, my Luna” she heard him whispering smoothly to his daughter, “She alright” he added and even though the evidence told other stories, the girl nodded innocently to her father before going towards the woman. Hermione didn’t look back at her immediately in attempts of composing herself, and when she managed to briefly do so, she looked down at her with a tiny, forced smile on her pain-stained face. Instantly, the little girl hugged tightly her legs and closed her eyes, most probably lingering on the moment.  

“I love Hel-mimi…” 

The words that were out a second later surprised the brunette to a great extent, but as she felt a grand wave of warmth crushing down the jagged pain of bereavement, she was fully sure that it was relief that ensued this surprise. She kneeled down next to the girl and embraced her warmly, even… even in a motherly way.  

“I love you too, Luna” she heard her words before realizing they were out, but she didn’t care because she knew they were true and solid. She kissed the petite head with care and the smile came uninvited on her mouth, not that she minded it… she didn’t mind it at all… 

When she opened her eyes eventually, she couldn’t miss the gleam in those crystal blue eyes, as dazzling, tiny droplets were escaping from the outer corners, as the full lips of his held a warm smile now. She felt a tiny sensation of contentment rising in her soul like a hesitant, new-born flower and she smiled back a bit, as this very moment, also the pangs of guilt made their appearance inside her.  

And at this very moment, despite the even dizzying variation between the conflicting sentiments, she knew one thing: she had to tell the truth. 

… 

The sun was up in the sky, shining warmly for some last times before the change of the weather, but this didn’t make Hermione enjoy the feeling as much as she hoped to. Still feeling the death of her beloved cousins sucking every drop of life from her, and now knowing what would follow, she couldn’t help but feel this unbearable feeling in her stomach. In the distance, she could listen to his melodic, deep voice as he was singing foreign lullabies to his precious daughter; this perfect voice managed somehow to linger in her ears and stroke soothingly her wounded spirits with ease, making her forget some of the weight on her shoulders. 

How much she really did love him… She just hoped with everything in her existence that she would still deserve his love afterward… 

Moments passed quickly until Ron finally came from the other room and sat next to her without hesitation, his long arms quickly wrapping around her tiny body. The woman leaned on his body absentmindedly and sighed inaudibly as she felt his calloused hands stroking her arm and side reassuringly right away; even though it felt so very right being near him, she couldn’t help but feed the doubts in her heart with the dark memories of her hidden past… How could all of this remain intact after her words and how could she be able to face the great desolation and loneliness? She really did not know… 

“Feel alright?” she suddenly heard the man’s soft whisper tickling gently her ear as his lips were ever so softly tracing the side of her face, the warmth of his soul apparent in every small movement of his. The woman wanted to cry but she just blinked back the betrayal moisture and tried to find inside her a non-existent courage, as she knew she would encounter with a trial that she deserved; a testing with God and person apparent.  

She just hoped she wouldn’t be punished too harshly. 

“I need to tell you some things, Ron…” she said with her low voice that would most probably crack at any moment, but she desperately tried to hold back any sign of weakness, so it wouldn’t backfire on her with undesirable effects. The said man turned his face around so he could face her properly, and as Hermione stared at his angelic face, she slightly ached inside to see that it was stained with some mixture of plain curiosity and worry, as she never really attempted to answer to his well-natured question.  

Even though she couldn’t even dare to think of it, it suddenly occurred to her that she may not deserve his sympathy… his  _love…_  

“What?” Ron asked her kindly, his eyes faithfully glued on her for any sort of response from her side. Hermione caught the look of genuine interest in his eyes and that made her more fearful inside, as she felt her heart crying out for some mercy she doubted she could gain at the moment. She took a lungful of air inside her before finally taking the final step. 

“I didn’t tell you everything about my past… I hide too many things, Ron…” she whispered with a somewhat tiny voice and dared to take a glimpse of his unblemished face, there seeing eyes widening and whiteness covering the skin. She heard a shaky breath being taken from him before he let out a so soft: “Tell.” 

“Well…” she started, trying to think of where she should start her stinging story, “I was almost 20 when… when my cousins and I decided to join an anti-Nazi, secret society… Back there in England, we were very passionate about doing as much as possible about sabotaging the Nazis’ work, so we immediately thought positively about it- we were ready to risk all of our lives just to ensure our freedom. And we were accepted. 

We were all in university, for the time being, so we were doing as much research as we could, and at night, we would go at the headquarters and type proclamations and such, so we could disperse them at universities and the town. As time passed, my two cousins and I would be very trustworthy in the society and they would send us all over the Europe to take information about the Nazis’ plans etc. But that only until I finished my studies, so they believed then that I was ready and very much capable of doing more than simple researches…”    

She eventually took a deep breath and dared to glance up at his face from under her thick eyelashes. She still couldn’t find any hint of disgust on his perfect, untarnished characteristics, just some interest in her till-then-untold story. After taking another breath, she finally let the dreadful words spill out from her sinful mouth. 

“Everyone at the headquarters noticed some beauty on me, something attractive that would surely wouldn’t be unnoticed by high-rated Germans or Italians… so, they gave me numerous of identifications and I started travelling around Europe once again, but this time… this time pretending to be a… a scarlet woman… a highly-paid whore…” 

Hermione tried very hard to hold back her tears or sobs, as with her head hung and her tone low and shameful, she kept talking, not having the courage to look up to his flawlessness anymore. “Many of them hired me to pleasure them, almost on daily basis, but my aim was actually to make them spill out as many secrets and as much information as possible. Back then, despite the humiliation, I firmly believed that the results deserved all the suffering and the hiding and the portraying… So, I had to endure their mood and their hormones, but sometimes… sometimes it was harder than usual… 

You see, most of them wanted relief from their sexual frustration; they wanted it rough, but that was it, I couldn’t do anything but oblige. But sometimes, some of them had other…  _tricks_ in their minds… They wanted to spank, to beat, to make their sluts bleed and scream from pain… Sometimes, this slut happened to be me. At- At first… at first, I faced it, I believed that it had to be suffered, but after months of getting harder and harder to handle it, I- I did it… I… I killed three of them… 

I couldn’t stand it anymore… That last day, h-he had brought a whip and a knife with him… H-He beat me and then pushed me on a glass table, which shattered and most of the glass cut me… I w-would be dead that night if… if I didn’t take the knife from him… The other two were s-similar… 

Then… then they understood that I wasn’t safe anymore at this kind of spying, so they transferred me back to England, where I started working on a law firm with another man of the society. His… his name was Albert Smith and he was like a second father to me, as I was like a child to him… He was my boss at the law firm and we together were trying to extract information that would be useful, but that only until… until some months later… when- when we found him… we found him dead…” 

Hermione couldn’t hold back the caustic wetness anymore and she let it leak out from her red eyes, as the set of her inner eyes were still staring at the curled corpse of Mr. Smith, all covered in blood. The sharp image of her memory cut her insides once more, as she felt all the sins struggle her painfully.  

“That’s when they thought that some of us weren’t safe at all anymore… The murders had started and many were panicked… S-So, they sent us away… Th-They sent me here with another name, so I could be safe, but then I had to escape from the town, as well… and that’s when y-you eventually m-met me.” 

She finally put the last full-stop in her short, yet life-wearing telling and she let out a mouthful of air combined with a choked cry, while acidic droplets never stop escaping from her scared eyes. She felt her body quivering and freezing and she looked down at the blurry sight of the flawed floor beneath her because looking somewhere except the dirty soil could be considered even hideous. Now that the whole truth was out, now that there was no pretending from her part, she felt filthier than before, just because now she finally realized that she might not be actually able to afford his love, even his attention.  

So she kept looking down, sobbing a despairing “sorry” out of her trembling, dry lips. But that only until she heard a nearly silent sob that she didn’t identify as hers…   

She looked up immediately and blinked her eyes so many times, so she would force that torturous sea out of her stinging eyes, just to be able to look up to his face, only to see… to see tears leaking out from  _his_ innocent eyes, to gaze at the venomous drops to stain little by little his sickly white skin like it was nothing… She stared up to his half-closed eyes and to his pulled-out characteristics, all of which showed an amount of hurt indescribable to an untouched soul.  

She counted the seconds, waiting for her by-right crucifixion… only, it never came… 

She felt firm arms pulling her with some weakened force over another body; she felt her muscles and bones being covered tightly by a shuddering body; she felt foreign wetness dripping on her unclean skin and she heard cries coating her own ones, dusted praying of another language being whispered like a shivering requiem and a bigger, purer heart shattering near hers… 

“They hurt you?” was the only thing that was understandable from out of his uncontrollably trembling lips, which were tracing her cheek and jawline like it was the precious wood of a holy temple. The tiny woman was shaking more between his muscles, as she couldn’t understand a trace of his demeanor. With heavy and exhausting force, she pulled away only a bit, so she could look up to him abashedly. She found a dull ocean between puffy, bloodshot eyes and a damp face, as tiny, fearful pupils were gazing at her with crucial agony and terror. “Tell”, he whispered with a shaky choke as more and more droplets were escaping from their ocean.  

She only nodded once, because words were worlds away from her throat to be found, and the sobs were too proud to let anything articulate to be spilled out of those chapped lips. Ron’s eyes grew dark, reached almost the blackest tints of blue existent, and the woman in his arms got afraid as she felt the muscles stiffen swiftly, but no; this scary body just brought her closer to itself like it was vital to it. 

More cries were audible now. 

“No, no, no…” she listened to an unstoppable, pained murmuring after a few excruciatingly long moments and two large, quivering palms travelled up and down the small of her back somewhat stiffly, as a strange moisture and numerous feather-kisses were washing the side of her face and her head constantly. Hermione felt even more guilty because of his unexplainable behavior… wasn’t he able to  _understand? To comprehend?_  

“Ron…” she finally seeked some hint of courage and told him, “I… I murdered p-people… I-I k-killed! Do you un-understand? I’m filthy!” she cried out softly through some tears and sobs that were still apparent. The redhead man looked out at her with eyes full of soon-to-be-shed tears that widened fast and a somewhat shocked expression over his hurt one. He shook his head with painful determination. 

“No, no…” he chanted once more from under his quite heavy breath while his long arms tightened around her small body even more. Hermione looked up at him from her position with wide, teary eyes and a very confused and full-of-ache mind. Her millions of questions weren’t able to be out, or at least a tiny sample of them, as Ron spoke again, this time barely more audible: 

“You be no killer… no…” he whispered with strength in his still-a-bit choked-out voice as one of his palms then cupped her cheek gently, yet surely. “You not a bad person, you a fighter and I sorry for the harm… harm you many?” he asked with kindness dripping out of his mouth almost tangibly and Hermione wanted to cry again, but this time for so different reasons… 

“Are… Are you not dis-disgusted?” she sobbed with some hope waking in her hesitantly; maybe there was still some hope for atonement… “Don’t- Don’t you h-hate me?” 

The pain, along with the firm determination, remained on his thin physiognomy. “N-Never, Hermione… I only think how many you suffer, you pain… Oh…” he choked out with some despair coloring his deep and gentle voice as he started kissing her face once again, between kisses the woman could hear incomprehensible sounds coming out of his pale, yet warm mouth. 

 _‘Thank you…’_   

She finally let her numb arms to reach his body and hug it desperately, like she yearned to do, though she had feared to. She let her tears to escape more freely than even, as the embrace was returning back to her lovingly and a wave of soothing release emerged her soul setting-freely.  

“I love you” she heard the echoes of his warm saying lingering in her thirsty ears like an angelic hymn and instantly she looked up to his awfully shiny eyes, which, despite their appalling state and the heavy weight of painful emotions they carried, held an immeasurable amount of one pure sentiment she craved to grasp and feel: 

 _Love._  

She threw her quite trembling arms around his neck swiftly, hugging him with everything she had in herself. Ron didn’t seem to hesitate about hugging her back with new-found power and only after a short moment of near silence, she eventually whispered in his ear the God-sent words: 

“I love you, too, Ron… Forever”  

“Forever… I protect you forever” he whispered his shaky words of solid promise.  

And while the swear-sealing embrace, they let their final tears to be dropped, securing their moment of complete redemption.   

… 

 _(Some days later)_  

Once again, despite the entering of the melancholic autumn, the sun was making everything warm and shiny, and especially in this forest, the sun could make everyone under its touch even proud and content.          

And Hermione Granger was one who could enjoy some of this generosity of nature.  

She was smiling softly, yet brightly, as she was gazing at a random book of her love. The mere thought made her heart accelerate its pace, as memories from the previous night rushed into her head with rude, yet welcoming force. She just couldn’t forget his hot, sweet breaths hitting her face and neck, his warm lips that were travelling around her heated skin caringly, his manly scent as he was sighing from above her. The sensation of his slightly sweaty body entangled with hers during the warm night wouldn’t abandon her soon, or most probably never… and she felt so very grateful for that… 

She sighed as lingering bliss stained her heart welcomingly.  

After moments, she looked up, only to see the beautiful, little girl some meters away, playing with the toys her dad had made for her. Her occasional squeals of happiness and her bright, innocent smile made the older female to sigh once more, as the dazzling effect of the sunbeams caressing the strawberry-blonde hair of Luna’s made her think of other things, of shy thoughts that recently would visit her fewer and fewer… 

After that one moment that Luna told her without hesitation that she loved her, and after Ron’s forgiveness and precious words of eternal worship, she wouldn’t stop herself but wander around possible paths of the future… paths that would lead to a life without war, only with Ron and Luna and maybe… maybe other children that were as much theirs… 

Yes, it would be a lie if she couldn’t admit to herself that she felt Luna as her own daughter now, as a child she’d be so eager to rise up with all the love she could muster; after that, she wanted so much to bring to a peaceful, warless world at least a child, a beautiful, red-haired child that would be  _theirs_ … 

Her smile brightened as some gray clouds gradually appeared on the light-blue sky, staining it unwontedly. The woman noticed it after a moment, as she also noticed a dreadful feeling rising on her stomach and chest.  

Something was wrong… or would be… 

She stood up with an alarming speed she couldn’t wholly decipher, yet she somehow trusted; her instincts, so far, had never betrayed her, so she shouldn’t doubt them now. It only occurred to her now that they hadn’t changed a location to stay for a very long period of time, something quite careless for their state. Because of some protection and comfort the hut provided to them, they never seemed to think about leaving soon- something that now appeared to be quite inconsiderate to her. 

Feeling her blood now hitting the walls of the veins with extreme force, she quickly turned around and ran over to the girl, who, by now, didn’t seem to notice the woman’s sudden shift of mood. Hermione caught Luna in her arms cautiously and made her look deep into her eyes. The girl now seemed alarmed too, but also very afraid of the swift change of the atmosphere.  

“Luna dear, you have to listen to me very carefully, do you understand?” she said with a quick and alarmed tone that made the girl gasp softly, but also nod shakily. Hermione couldn’t stand seeing the girl like this, she wanted so badly to soothe her until she was smiling again, but her heart screamed her that time was flowing like the torrential water, so she had to hurry up. “You need to hide, because… because you have to, alright?” When she saw another nod as a response, she kept going, while trying to adjust the crazy pulsation of her alarmed system. “I’ll find you a good place to hide but I need you to promise me that in any way possible you will not come out of your place until you hear me or your papa calling you” she told then firmly, staring hard and seriously at the child while shaking her a bit on the shoulders, so she would make her point even more understandable.  

“Y-Yes” Luna whispered shakily as her almost-round eyes started to well up with tears. Hermione kissed her head quickly and forced a tiny smile to her face so the girl was all that scared; she mustn’t be frightened, even though the circumstances the woman’s instincts cried out looked to be downright terrifying. 

“That’s right, Luna; you won’t come out until you hear  _my_ or  _papa’s_ voice calling you- until then you’ll be hidden and you won’t make any sound at all!” she said rather loudly and forcefully and the girl seemed scared, but despite her sadness, she knew that she had to do this. “You won’t cry loudly or even softly! You won’t call me or papa, and whatever you hear, you won’t speak, until Papa or I call you out. Is that understood, Luna?” The little girl nodded once again as her tiny body was at the moment shaking quite uncontrollably and some tears began escaping from her huge eyes. Hermione then instantly caught her in her arms and stood, looking frantically around for a good place to hide the child. She finally went to the smaller room, where there was the furthest corner, which was almost hidden, and there, there was a tiny, wooden, sort of cupboard on the ground. She opened it and put the child inside and then covered it with a small blanket, so only half of her face could be visible, and that only if the cupboard was open. She looked at the girl for a moment, seeing the tangible fear stinging her blue-grey eyes awfully.  

“Everything will be alright, Luna” she reassured hollowly, because promises soon tended to be broken in times like those ones. “Just do everything I told you and everything will be alright… And in case Papa or I don’t call you and then night comes and then morning again and no one calls you…” she started saying, but the dreadful prospect sunk in her more heavily than she could handle at the moment… For a millisecond, her inner eyes could see Ron’s body curled in the forest and covered with bullets and blood, but she terribly much needed to push the image aside, and with great force, she did so, despite the inescapable heartache. 

“Then?” the shaky words of the curled girl made her turn back to reality and she looked back at her cautiously. She had to cover any possibility, so she could secure even a meager hint of Luna’s safety. 

“Then you will pray and you will very carefully go to the river, so you could drink water and eat. But that we’ll secure not to happen, alright?” she said with a tone that deep-down held a shuddering. Luna nodded her confirmation once more and looked up to the woman fearfully. Hermione, realizing that time was shortening, kissed quickly but reassuringly the girl’s forehead and whispered so very softly the word the girl needed to know, just in case… 

“I love you so much, Luna.” Her tone held determination and sureness that made the shiny, blue-grey eyes hold a tiny hint of easiness.  

Hermione didn’t then wait another moment to waste; she stood up and so very quickly went and packed everything of theirs in Ron’s big sack, trying to hide any hint of them. Fortunately, most of the things were already in the sack, so Hermione just stuffed it with any other remaining object and then sealed it and put it also in the cupboard next to Luna. “I’ll leave it there, if…if papa needs it. Don’t move it and move much yourself, alright?” she said and once the tiny child nodded, Hermione carefully closed the cupboard, leaving it only a tiny bit ajar so the girl could breathe. She quickly went to the other room and kneeled in front of the fireplace. Her body immediately let her immense fear and agony to be shown by the forms of irrepressible shuddering and poisonous tears, as her heart would burst at any moment and her mind would faint from the unbelievable blood pressure.  

She just prayed as she waited, because she knew that if they ran away, it’d be much, much worse… A sacrifice to the altar of peace and love was all needed… She just hoped they would still love her and if she made it, if she was lucky enough, she would find them once again… if it was God’s will to happen…  

And then, there was it.   

The door burst open violently.  

Angry yells could be heard so harshly that you’d want to rip your eardrums.  

Cries could be heard above the horrible sound of skin meeting cruelly skin, as unkind hands grabbed already bruised arms.  

Sounds of rapid and hard searching, along with more barking, made the heart shutter willingly. 

And after some horrible moments that seemed like centuries, after more beating and roaring, a desperate, still conscious body was dragged out of a half-destroyed hut- the abused spirit’s screams could be so straightforwardly heard: 

“NO!!!” 

Another hard blow, and then, darkness. 

 _______________________________________________________________  

The footsteps were considerably light, as a so soft whistling was coming out from the full lips. The tall figure even skipped during its walk, as there was a feeling of meager pride inside- he was lucky enough today to fish a couple of big, tasteful-looking fish.  

Yes, he felt even lighter as he was walking back towards the familiar hut, knowing that his daughter and the brunette he loved greatly were there, waiting for him.  

Ron smiled a bit wider as the striking image of Hermione wrapped his mind and warmed his heart easily; he felt so content, despite the world that was hunting him like a disgrace.  

He was content because he was once nothing, he was somewhere in the darkness of nowhere, and she gave him an opportunity to see the dawn again. 

At least for that, he loved her greatly.  

After some moments, he finally saw the trees being less and less and the ground being more and more spacious until he eventually made out the so small clearing where the small, stone hut was. 

It took him some moments to realize that something wasn’t right… no, something wasn’t right… 

For some reason he couldn’t fully comprehend yet, his heart clenched painfully and his head started to hurt a bit. His heartbeats quickened and quickened as his eyes made out a wholly ajar door… For any reason, the entrance of the hut was totally open ever, but now it was.  

Even though some rational part of his mind instructed him to be careful, to measure every motion of his before taking it, his steadily-getting-worried soul didn’t have any of it and the man felt his legs taking longer strides- any hint of lightness had completely vanished from his pace now, that held only anxiousness at the time being. 

He quickly reached the entrance of the hut and with alarmed eyes, he looked around swiftly; then, he felt his heart stopping. 

The little, familiar hut, the one that they had managed to paint with their love and care and tend with their eagerness, was now… empty… shattered… destroyed all the way on the inside… 

And nowhere a hint of humanity…    

His blood instantly froze in his throbbing veins, and his heart stubbornly kept saying to him that the signals were untrue, they  _had_ to be untrue. He entered the hut quickly and looked around frantically, trying to find out a hint of familiarity in this whole mess, but nothing came. All his restless eyes could catch was hard, cold walls of impassive stone, ruined wood and fabric, destroyed furniture and a heavy sense of dust that was overwhelming in the air. He felt his eyes suddenly stinging from the behind, as moisture was surely coming up to them, but he tried to push it aside childishly, needing to reassure his meagerly mended spirits that tears and pain were irrational and unnecessary; they were there, somewhere around there, somewhere…  

He couldn’t find them anywhere… they weren’t there…  

Tears, without asking him, begun travelling down his cold face, scarring him merely- the vaster scars were elsewhere, as it seemed, deep inside… He ran around the room madly and the bucket with the freshly-fished fish fell on the floor carelessly, totally forgotten. The tall form started shaking as legs took desperately footsteps between the cool walls, as hands stretched to touch something or someone that was actually non-existent. Soft sobs came uninvited and finally dreadful prospects and terrifying images drowned in his head. He started to feel dizzy, but he didn’t dare to give up what seemed to be already lost… 

“Hermione?” he asked the air with an almost cracked tone that held so much insecurity. “Hermione, you here?” he asked again, and the answer came by the silence of the eerie atmosphere around his shattered self.  

“No, no” he whispered to himself between chokes and sobs, as his eyes produced stinging tears. His knees started to shake violently and moments later he fell on them clumsily- yet, the physical pain told nothing to him. 

“Hermione!” he cried out with despair clinging on his voice hurtfully. His heart pounded so painfully and he just wanted to rip it out of his chest eternally, because if this was true, his life was no more valuable than filth or mud… “Hermione! Luna! Hermione!” he just kept going after some minutes, yet the answer never changed. His mind travelled back suddenly, to the one day he had felt like this before… That horrible night that his dear Flora had passed out was exactly the same, yet at the same time, it was quite nothing near to what he was feeling right now… He had lost Hermione  _and_ Luna, his two everythings… 

He was really nothing now…  

He cried in his hands for what seemed to be a lifetime to him, only it was a couple of long moments. His heartbreaking cries and sobs were loud and the man wasn’t able to hear the creaking of some flaw wood, or the hesitant steps that followed. No, he was only able to hear his own, stabbing cries and his heart gasping from the ache that felt. This, however, stopped when his desperate ears finally caught a sound that seemed familiar and so vital… 

“P-Papa?” 

His head shot up right away from the pleasant shock that he wasn’t sure if was true or imaginative. A second later, his blurry eyes made out the sight of his fearful-looking, tiny daughter that was looking back to him with a tear-stained face and shaking limbs. 

He was hugging her tightly in his arms a second later and he silently thanked God for answering to his unconscious prayers.  

“Luna… oh, Luna…” he could only sob for a couple of minutes, as he was stroking her body reassuringly and carefully, wanting somewhat desperately to ensure himself that this wasn’t just a delusion, but a tangible relief. They cried in each other’s comforting embraces for some more minutes, until the man’s mind finally resurfaced from the mixed sea of relief and soreness and focused on the one thing that mattered at the moment.  

“Luna, dove è Hermione?”  _(Luna, where is Hermione?)_ Ron finally asked the most dreaded question as he was looking down at his daughter with agony and only a minute trace of hope that was trying so hard not to crash and disappear from under all this pressuring and painful weight of his ignorance and helplessness.             

His eyes slightly widened as they witnessed the little girl’s sudden terror and swift shine in the huge eyes. “Papa… non so… mi ha detto che pel nascondelmi ed allola sentissi la gente allabbiata e Hel-mimi che glidano e dopo un istante non potlei sentile qualche cosa…”  _(Dad... I_ _don't know.._ _. she told me to hide and then I_ _heard angry people and Hermione crying and a_ _fter a while, I_ _couldn't hear anything..._ _)_ His daughter’s words were like little sharp knives that victoriously reached his heart and stabbed it uncaringly. He looked down, unable to decipher the few words that were trapped in the air venomously and more wetness emerged from his enormous eyes.  

“Hel-mimi mi ha leso la plomessa che non uscilò o non parlelò fino a che non la sentissi voi o che lo denominate… ed il sacchetto è dove elo, ugualmente…”  _(_ _Hermione made me promise that I won't come out or speak until I hear you or her calling me... and the bag is where I was, too..._ _)_  Luna continued speaking most probably absentmindedly, but the words were as painful as the previous ones. Why the heck did she have to think of  _him_? Why? Why did she have to be  _so_  selfless and  _just for once_  think of  _herself_ , of  _her own_  safety? He did thank her with every cell of his for considering his girl’s protection, but why didn’t she consider hers as well? 

Oh, God,  _why_? 

Despite the hot rivers that were endlessly coursing down his cheeks, he knew that he had to act fast; he shouldn’t be ungrateful enough as to ruin the one chance she had given to him without actually thinking. He quickly asked his child where she had been hiding, and after quickly collecting his sack and throwing another glance to what he temporarily called ‘home’, he took his daughter securely in his arms and ran away, letting behind what he didn’t want to even tear away from his, or at least not so abruptly.   

And tears never stop running down his pained face.   

… 

The sun had already started its slow dip towards the horizon, leaving behind only some not-so-comforting tints of purple and red on the skies. A set of sorrowful, dark-blue eyes was watching the phenomenon without interest, but only with a great amount of melancholy and ache that were prevailing inside them. Two lips then stiffened and pursed considerably, as invisibly the front teeth bit the bottom one hard, so no sob or any other, desperate and hurt sound would escape from them. Only the sound of the girl’s voice made him focus back to a misery reality.  

“Non siete affamati, papa?”  _(Are you not hungry, daddy?_ _)_  he heard Luna’s innocent voice reaching his ears carefully. The man instantly looked back down to the girl on his lap and forced a big smile on his pale face. 

“No, caro Luna, non sono affamato”  _(_ _No, dear Luna, I'm not hungry_ _.)_  he whispered back softly and with one hand he caressed her soft, long hair soothingly, like he knew she liked it. After a small, warm kiss on her forehead, Ron cut some more of the fish’s flesh with his hand, and after putting out any bones, he put it in his daughter’s mouth, letting her eat more of the nutritious meat. As he watched her chewing it quite eagerly, a spontaneous, tiny smile flashed on his face for a second before his mind drifted back to sad thinking. 

Three days had passed since their departure from the hut, since he returned from his fishing to find out that…  

The thought alone, even unfinished, brought another wave of wintriness to his mournful soul. He took a very deep breath so he wouldn’t break down again. 

Yes, that was actually some kind of ritual of the few days that had passed: he would move constantly once again, trying to find safer and safer places to spend their nights, he would take care of Luna and find her food and when the girl was asleep, he would finally set all of his emotional ache loose, letting himself cry and beg and pray to God that she was okay, wherever she was… He couldn’t sleep; he couldn’t eat; only he would constantly think of her stunning image that he had lost… His mind was unable to escape from the memory of her overwhelming scent, of her feather-like touches, of the intoxicating taste of her lips and skin or of her lingering, gentle voice… Faint ghosts of whispering were still audible in his ears…: 

 _“I love you, too, Ron… Forever…”_  

The gradually fading sunbeams were able to reflect on a slowly-coursing, glistening drop at the exact moment.  

The man knew very well that his parents weren’t able to afford learning sessions for all of them, thus he knew the very essentials as regards general knowledge; however, he knew- or at least he could realize- that he must have done something very bad in his life, so the Almighty would punish him so severely… during 26 years of life, losing more people than the heart could possibly bear… especially the two, most important ones…  

First, it was his dear Flora; he couldn’t still forget the way she used to smile at him and make his heart skipping beats… She was his first love, and it was one of the sweetest, purest, kindest things he had ever savoured in his life. But then… there was  _Hermione_ … 

His love for Hermione was all those things: sweet, gentle, caring… but the redhead man couldn’t help but notice that there was a fire between them, a flame undimmed, something that he didn’t remember experiencing before then; his love for her was also frenzied like unquenchable thirst and passionate.  

It was something he so unexpectedly found and he so abruptly lost. 

Hours once more passed with the unstoppable thinking of her, until darkness engulfed both of them. Ron securely wrapped a blanket around his sleeping daughter's form and after letting his restive, tired eyes to gaze at her for a long moment, he stared up at the sky, where no moon and no stars were hanging. He sighed soundlessly as his pupils wandered to the unstained veil above him, while his restless soul started once again praying for her. As minutes flowed by like water, tears didn’t hesitate to come for the millionth time up to his dark, almost soulless eyes. His long arms instinctively wrapped around his body as the back of his head hit the rough surface of an old tree.  

 _‘Oh, God, please, just please; keep her safe and alive wherever she is… Please don’t take her with You, too… Just… Just, Lord, give me a sign… a sign that she’s alive…’_  

Suddenly, his huge eyes witnessed a tiny star appearing and gleaming on the dark-blue, starless sky. A crushing, yet so warm wave of relief embraced his sore heart and tears of meager release escaped from the outer corners of his eyes.  

 _‘Thank you’_ he thought a million of times with great gratefulness and a tiny, so hesitant upwards-twisting of his mouth was barely visible, yet still apparent.  

And as he thought back of one of their most caring encounters, he remembered his unconscious, yet proper promises. 

And at that precise moment, he knew that it time to fulfill them.     


	7. A Step into Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Apologies for another late chapter, but, at least, this one is the last! For anyone out there reading this, I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it thus far, and you'll also enjoy this end!   
> Still, I don't know any Italian or German, so forgive any mistakes! Well, forgive any mistakes in general (I'm trying to edit the script in the platform, but it keeps crashing down; hopefully sometime I'll have the mental strength and time to do some proper editing... Apologies in advance for that!)

Praying was endless, eternal… There was no beginning, no end, just an unstoppable circle of desperate prays…

The day had finally come.

A broken man was kneeling on the dusty, wooden floor with his shaky figure curled painfully, his eyelids tightly shut until they could be numb from the aching and they could bleed. His lips were moving heatedly, mouthing words of begging and utter despair; because what else this shuttered man could ask except health, peace, love, and life?

The day had surely come.

The shifting of the tiny form on the small bed made his eyes to open quickly, and his huge, sapphire eyes looked anxiously up to the mattress, trying to make out through the half-darkness if the young presence was awake. The shifting became a tad bit more frenzied and a slight whimpering was then nearly audible for the man, who was now even more upset with the troubling situation. He hurriedly uncurled his hurt, intense muscles and he looked over at the little girl, his eyes wandering on her face. His calloused hands instantly touched the vaguely-shuddering body and stroked reassuringly the thin arms, the small back, and then the soft, sweaty skin of the pale face. The sight made the man shiver painfully but he only let his head lean closer to hers and kiss the somewhat wet locks with protection and assurance.

“Ssh…” he was only able to whisper with his trembling voice in her ear, as his large hands were still stroking back the long, wavy locks with care identical to a father’s.

The whimpers became more hurtful and the shifting more restless. The man kissed the sweaty forehead and miserably noticed that it was burning; more tears were drowning in his eyes now, but he never let them escape. He swallowed hard and then he half-lay next to the limp, restless form, taking her in his arms and while rocking and caressing, he started singing the almost forgotten lullabies his mother used to sing to him.

_Why this had to happen, too?_

“H-Hell-mimi…” This whimper was louder and certainly more specific.

The man wanted to scream from the burning ache in his chest.

_Give me strength… Oh, please, my Lord, give me some strength and please, protect them…_

_Protect them…_

“Won?”

The gentle, French-accented voice echoed so gently in the small, almost black room, and the said man looked behind his shoulder to see the silhouette of a blonde woman with a sincerely kind and concerned face. He looked at her from between his heavy eyelashes without uttering a word from fear of upsetting the baby’s already uneasy slumber. The woman must have understood that, because she cautiously took steps towards them without spelling out her worries. Only after some moments, when she was standing next to the bed and stared down at them, she dared to open her mouth and spoke very softly.

“Iz ze zleeping?” she asked and the man nodded once, even though his enormous eyes told other things. The woman looked at him for a moment and then leaned down to them, her beautiful eyes looking at the girl sympathetically.

“Do not wo-wy, Won, I’ll be ‘ewe for ‘er” she whispered reassuringly and the back of her delicate hand touched lightly the baby girl’s forehead, where the hot droplets were forming so painful easily…

“Ron…”

The second voice startled the lying man a bit and he instantly looked at the owner with wide eyes. Even though the presence was known and comforting, his uneasy soul felt even edgier at the moment. After an inward, strained sigh and another look at the girl in his arms, he ever so gently took his body away, trying to stand up without making the baby uncomfortable. His midnight blue eyes were glued on the tiny figure, but when he felt the soft, comforting pressure from the hand on his shoulder, he eventually let go, going to the other side of the door, where the tall form was still standing.

Another troubled glance at the bed and the door was closed, leaving the two men standing before each other silently.

“Tutto sta andando essere ok” ( _Everything is going to be alright_ ) the elder man said, looking at the other with blue eyes full of worry and sympathy. The other one started to shake and he shook his head miserably, not actually daring to look at the other one with his wet, pain-stained eyes.

“Non so, William… Era già in modo da decidere duro lasciarla ed ora è malato. Sono così impaurito di lasciarla ora…” ( _I don't know, William... It was already so hard to decide to leave her and now she is ill. I'm so afraid of leaving her now..._ ) the redhead man whispered and he weakly looked up at his oldest brother, gazing to similar eyes with questions unable to be spoken from the trembling, pale lips. William looked at him with a tiny, reassuring smile on his face and grabbed his brother’s shoulder firmly, most probably attempting to seek out the pent-up strength.

“Ma potete posporre il più che cosa è già in ritardo?” ( _But can you postpone more what's already belated?_ ) he answered back seriously, looking deeply into his eyes just to prove more his point. Ron instantly felt the fear roaring in his chest like a wounded animal and he sensed the rising dread washing him all, making his muscles to clench and his heart to beat painfully hard. His brother must have noticed the anxiety in his orbs, as his grip became even tighter.

“Siamo qui per Luna, noi possiamo prenderle la cura… Carlo è inoltre qui, in modo da non dovete preoccuparti per questo; tutto che dobbiate preoccuparti circa è Hermione” ( _We are here for Luna; we can take care of her... Carlo is also here, so you don't have to worry for this; all you have to worry about is Hermione_ ) William told him comfortingly and some of his warmth emitted from his hand on the shoulder, a warmth that ceased some of the quivering.

Ron could only nod once and breathe a so faint _grazie._ Then he went back to the tiny room, where Fleur and his little Luna were, looking at the hurtful images with widen, wet eyes and forced him to face facts he couldn’t bear, though he knew he had to accept. He slowly walked towards the bed and saw the woman wiping the sweaty, flushed face with a wet cloth, her moves delicate and smooth, her face full of care and sympathy. When she sensed his presence in the room, she gave him a look full of hope and reassurance, things he needed to fill him with desperation. He kneeled down next to her and stared at his sleeping daughter with worry pouring out of his enormous eyes freely; only a moment passed till he felt Fleur’s hand on top of his trembling hand.

“Everything will be fine” she whispered and gave a kiss to his forehead, an act that made him remember his mother and his beloved sister. After a strained smile at her, his hand traveled to his pocket, where he found the one thing he dared to depart himself from. His eyes fell on the golden, shiny chain for a moment before he kissed it with respect and hidden adoration and put it with emotional strength in the little fist of the girl. After another desperate glance at the girl, he leaned down and whispered smoothly in her ear:

“Ciò è traversa del mama e li ha desiderati averli. Glie l'mantenga sempre con e preghi per tutti noi mentre soltanto pensano all'amore. Ti amo, Luna, e non lo dimentica prego mai… Ti amo…” ( _This is mum's cross and she wanted you to have it. Keep it always with you and pray for all of us while only thinking of love. I love you, Luna, and please don't ever forget it... I love you..._ ). With the words, the man couldn’t anymore hold it and he let a lone tear escape from his eyes, knowing that this may be…

Despite the vast truth of the unproduced idea, Ron was still unable to let this thought invade his mind and vanquish him; he had still the right to hope…

A glance and a prolonged kiss later, Ron stood up and left the room without looking back, knowing that if he did so, he wouldn’t ever go where he should. He bid his goodbyes to his older brothers with a heart full of agony and fear at the prospect of never seeing them again, but both seemed hopeful for his sake. He took the few things he needed and left the basement with caution underlining his every motion. After making sure that no one’s around, he ran to the other side of the tiny, weedy road, making his way to the woods and to his task.

Almost a week ago, he had managed to reach the place where William and his wife, Fleur, were living in hiding, and asked them to stay a bit with them. The response was the anticipated one and while Luna was glad to see again familiar faces, Ron was trying to suppress the growing suffering inside him and his torturous fears about Hermione.

 _Hermione_ … the name alone could send shivers through his long spine and made him forget everything harming, but only for a second. Then, the memories of still-raw loss would come back vaster and ready to crush his hopes just about everything completely.

Pushing away distracting thoughts that wasted precious time, Ron was carefully walking in the woods, using his instincts as a guide to reach the place he most dreaded, yet he had to visit. His breaths were quivering, yet deep as he was measuring every movement of his and mentally planned the next one, till the very end.

With the help of his brothers, Ron managed to locate a small base the Nazis had near the forest he was stepping in. if he was lucky enough, Hermione should have been here, and even though the whole plan of his was a sure suicide, a dip into hell without doubt, he knew that he would experience his own one if he didn’t attempt to save her, or at least to find her- if not only for her life, it was also for his own mental health and balance.

The trek took almost all of the eerie night for the redhead man and eventually tired, he saw between thick trunks of old trees the old building he was looking for. At the sight of it, Ron shuddered uncontrollably, and unconsciously, the memories of Poland popped into his mind painfully, making his skin tighter from the remembrance of torture and the bones weaker from the recollection of the whip and the acid. The screaming of a hurtful past echoed in his head and in a moment of terror, he took wide steps back, unable to find in him the courage he had once fed inside him. The fear won the meager bravery and Ron thought of running away and never coming back; no, the suffering was immense, and he had endured it once because of his beliefs, and now… _now what?_ Was he eager enough to risk so he could save his love, or the possibility of losing her and his freedom altogether wasn’t so minor now?

The mess in his head made it ache and Ron backed away more, unable to find inside him the reasons of his previous certainty; everything seemed quite unimportant in front of his vast fear for repetition of his past. Feeling the back of his eyeballs swimming in acid, the man eventually run away like a scared child, not daring to recall the ache of the past.

While huge strikes of getaway, his mind instantly swam in memories of that final day… That nerve-racking day they had planned to minor detail, along with millions of alternative plans just in case. He could easily commit to memory the way his breaths were coming out in muted gasps, how his blood was boiling in a torturing way inside, how his head was spinning from both terror and hope. This very day, the last of his torture and the first of his resumed freedom, would always be one of the most vivid ones in his entire life. 

After eternal minutes that brought no comfort or minor easiness, Ron finally stopped running as he reached a small river, and tiredly dropped to his knees, downright numb from the rough conflict of his thoughts. At first, he stayed completely still, unable to do more than keeping his eyes closed and breathing unevenly. Short moments later, the man could be still found in his kneeling position, facing the slightly still surface of the watercourse with wide, soulless eyes. The sting in them made him shut them hard and inhale deeply, despite the sharp pains at the ribs and the chest. Then, with trembling hands, he brought some amount of water to his face, washing it unceremoniously, like he needed to wash away some invisible dirt that wouldn’t ever leave him, but only stain him…  

Why was life sometimes so hard and merciless?

With the coolness of the fresh water still on his pale skin, he unsurely opened his eyes, looking down at the new-born ripples on the watery surface. The widening circles captivated him unexpectedly, and suddenly, through slight dizziness and numbness, these circles reflected on faces, faces invisible, yet somewhere existent…

At first, he caught a wavy image of his parents; a sense of juvenile warmth rushed into him as the fade sight of them made him remember strength and fondness of another, more careless times. The image of them soon transformed to one of his numerous siblings, all with mirth-filled faces that brought nothing but hope in him, along with a short-lived, slightly hollow laugh. As the circles widened to non-existence, Ron got immediately desperate while observing the fading of the images, and without thinking, he let his hand dip in the water, so more waves would appear, along with reflections, so this tightness would disappear from his stomach. With wide, expectant eyes he searched carefully for something new, and his wild heartbeat decreased slightly at the sight of his lovely, smiling daughter, his dearest Luna. The pain on the chest was then replaced by a balmy sensation that swelled inside him, as echoes of her alive, innocent laughter filled his ears with ease, ease that almost made him forget anything else.

The image of his daughter remained in his mind a bit longer, and unconsciously, his fingers once again disrupted the tranquility of the water, mildly despaired to observe whoever else his deepest instincts had to show him. This time, the trembling image of Luna didn’t change much, as the next face was a very similar to the girl’s… His blue eyes widened as they stared with awe at a pair of bright, warm grey eyes, at the so familiar thin, pale face, at the honey-coloured curls and at the pink of the beaming lips. His own lips trembled as he gazed at the reflection with weird feelings he couldn’t really name. And a second later, a sole observation made him silently gasp:

This one face was _moving_ , but not along with the flowing of the water… this person _was breathing_ …    

“Flora?” Ron whispered with shock lacing in his tiny voice, his body sliding back just a bit. He blinked as he saw her giving him a small smile that warmed him inside, but still, his surprise couldn’t let him even take a proper breath… _His dear Flora_ …

His heart skipped a few beats as he heard her faint voice whispering into his ear a warm _Ciao, Ron_. “F-Flora? Sto sognando?” _(Am I dreaming?)_ , he breathed unconsciously, feeling his muscles relax under the radiance of her serenity- always this unblemished tranquility that amazed him… He could remember his first crazy heartbeats while seventeen…

“Naturalmente non, il più caro… Sono qui, con voi, come i vecchi tempi… Vi ricordate di vecchi tempi, Ron?” ( _Of course not, dearest... I am here, with you, like the old times... Do you remember the old times, Ron?_ ), her voice echoed in his head like bells and his next breath felt so refreshing in his lungs, like life itself. His crystal blue eyes never stopped staring at the reflection on the watery surface as he answered with hushed tone: “Potrei non dimenticare mai quelli…” ( _I could never forget those…_ )

After that solid statement, silence prevailed, making the man wonder if all these were true, if indeed his dead wife had somehow visited him, had somehow spoken to him. Even though her pretty, so pure image was still before his tired eyes, he still was too drained from life to believe, even though he was so desperate for a trace of relief…

“Perchè siete qui, caro?” ( _Why are you here, dear?_ ), Ron suddenly heard her calm voice and looked up even more astonished than before. The peace of the heart was lost at that second, being replaced by the wildness of its rhythm. His eyes widened more, if that’s possible, and Ron felt his throat dry and his stomach quite knotted. “Dicami,” ( _Tell me_ ) he heard another kind whisper hitting his eardrums. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze for a bit before looking back at her image with uncertain eyes that held the naivety of the universe.

“Io… Sono spaventato, Flora… così spaventato… Non posso fare questo, Io sono impaurito della tortura. Non posso affrontare ancora questo, esso sono doloroso, tutte queste memorie…” ( _I... I am scared, Flora... so scared... I cannot do this, I'm afraid of the torture. I am not able to face this again, it’s painful, all these memories..._ ), Ron eventually whispered shakily and started shaking his head absentmindedly, trying to shoo away the echoes of a stained history. For a bit, he remained silent and he couldn’t hear any sort of reply from Flora, but after a fearful glance at the liquid blanket, he saw her face still there, her grey eyes scrutinizing him sheepishly.

“E che cosa circa Hermione, Ron?” ( _And what about Hermione, Ron?_ ) Flora’s voice filled his ears kindly, though the softness of this echo little did it soothe him. At the sound of the female name, the man shivered uncontrollably and his eyes darkened with panic, still staring at that face with uncertainty and palpable dread staining his pale face.

“Sapete circa H-Her-Hermione?” ( _You know about Hermione?_ ) Ron asked her with quivering voice and swiftly-watering eyes. At the feeling of her name on his tongue, the kneeling man started to realize what he did, the vastness of such runaway, the filthiness of himself… His damp fingers dug deep into the soft soil, his irises darkened even more and his bottom lip, even under the force of the front teeth, was trembling frenziedly. From under auburn, heavy eyelashes, Ron dared a look towards the river’s surface, where Flora’s figure still reflected, staring back at him with soft eyes that never swam in anger or envy.

“Naturalmente so… Il vostro cuore sta battendo così fortemente ogni volta che pensate lei, ogni volta che siete vicino lei.” ( _Of course, I know... Your heart is beating so loudly whenever you think of her, whenever you are near her._ ) she answered harmoniously, her eyes shining beautiful with the sunlight. At her words, the redhead remained mute and dazed, unable to even comprehend his own feelings, his very own thoughts. For a timeless moment, he sensed the numbness of his body prevailing all over him and he let his head hung. He couldn’t feel guilty for loving another woman after his wife’s death, this was a heart’s decision, a soul’s cry, something he couldn’t possibly suppress; however, under the stare of his precious Flora, of his very first, innocent worship, he started to feel quite ashamed, like he had somehow betrayed the memory of hers, her whole existence, the place she always had in his heart…     

“Ed impari, il mio amore, non confondersi da questi sentimenti. Era una volta che la volontà I del dio che lascia per sempre il vostro lato ed esso ora è volontà del dio da unire a Hermione. Non si lasci perdere qualcosa così pura a causa di timore di danneggiarlo… Hermione è forte e sembra amare entrambi voi e Luna; gli non lasci tutti e tre le perdere questa probabilità per un altro che cominciano…” ( _And learn, my love, not to be embarrassed by these sentiments. It was once God's will I leaving your side forever, and it is now God's will to unite with Hermione. Don't let yourself lose something so pure because of fear of hurting me... Hermione is strong and seems to love both you and Luna; don't let all three of you lose this chance for another beginning..._ ) Flora’s smooth whispers filled the air around him warmly, and the broken man looked at her with glassy eyes full of love and ache, unable to believe that he just heard words of such honesty and selflessness- then again, he knew that no one could speak to him like that, only her.

The liquid substance increased between his eyelids that it started leaking out, leaving long, wet paths behind. The midnight blue eyes continued staring at the wavy image with this blend of emotions till his body started to shake violently from the oncoming, silent sobs.

He could now realize how much of coward he really was. Unworthy and pitiless, surely not good enough for the love of such great people like Flora or… or Hermione…

“L'OH, Flora… La amo così tanto, ma invece di mostrare questo, ho funzionato soltanto via… Come posso possibilmente meritare un tal eroina quando posso pensare soltanto al mio dolore possibile?” ( _Oh, Flora... I love her so much, but instead of showing this, I only ran away... How can I possibly deserve such a heroine when I only can think of my possible pain?_ ) he sobbed weakly and painfully, hiding his face in dirty hands, mixing his tears with the brown of the earth. For a minute, he only cried, unable to get rid of this sickening state that strangled him. Then, a warm, so light breeze embraced him soothingly, as he once again heard of his wife’s answer:

“So che il vostri cuore, Ron, ed Io conosco la vostra anima… Il vigliaccheria non è effluito mai nella vostra anima, a volte timore o preoccupazione, ma mai vigliaccheria. Non dubiti del prezioso del vostro essere… Mi ricordo di la prima volta gli ho regolato i miei occhi che avevo ritenuto la parte interna calda. Conoscete perchè? Poiché i vostri occhi hanno mostrato la cura e l'entusiasmo per proteggere, indicato l'amore e la bellezza possedete dentro. Così, Ron, non ritiene prego mai inadeguato per qualcuno le sensibilità…” ( _I know your heart, Ron, and I know your soul... Cowardice never streamed in your blood, sometimes fear or concern, but never cowardice. Don't doubt the preciousness of your being... I remember the first time I set my eyes on you- I had felt warm inside. Do you know why? Because your eyes showed care and eagerness to protect, showed the love and the beauty you possess within. So, Ron, please don't ever feel inadequate for someone's feelings..._ )     

The words held a vast, deep meaning that made Ron shiver. His tears gradually dried and his numb hands eventually let the slightly muddy face breathe with relief. Puffy eyes shifted towards the imaginary reflection once again, observing her unsurely. Flora instantly gave him a soft smile that warmed his heart comfortingly and fed the strength he thought he had completely lost. His eyes suddenly sparked and he unconsciously stood up to feet that no more shuddered.

“Va, Ron… Vada conservare quelli che vi preoccupate per… So sono difficile e pericoloso, ma tutta la mia forza è con voi, tutte le mie speranze si riposa a voi… Appena vada e comporti su che cosa ritenete… atto sul vostro amore.” ( _Go, Ron... Go and save those you care for... I know it is difficult and dangerous, but all my might is with you, all my hopes rest to you... Just go and act upon what you feel... act upon your love._ ) she advised with a strong voice that made his blood circulate more powerfully inside him, his system fill with what seemed to be adrenaline. He stepped closer to the river, gazing down at the smiling face with peace in his heart, knowing at last that he wasn’t unfaithful with his acts, only strong enough to move on without forgetting. He smiled back a little and at the motion, another image appeared, one of another two precious women in his life: his dearest daughter, a beaming, beautiful Luna, and next to her a pale, glowing face that caused him instantly soothing tachycardia… his sweet, passionate Hermione…

“Sapete che non li dimenticherò mai, Flora…” ( _You know that I will never forget you, Flora..._ ) Ron whispered with deep emotion in his rich voice and another balmy aura around him was more than enough of an answer. He smiled again, this time lively, and after whispering a wholehearted _Ti amo_ to the three fading faces, he took a deep breath a firm decision:

He couldn’t let those he loved down… not when they needed him.

As he cleaned himself from the dirt with lighter, stronger heart, he didn’t realize that the clouds tore apart, letting a set of golden rays fall straight on him…

He cautiously made his way back to the headquarters he had found some hour ago, and when reached it, he hid between some bushes, observing carefully the scene.

The building seemed old and small, only two floors, but probably many more underground. The gate was made of iron and next to it, as usual, was a small fort, where a man with the familiar olive-coloured suit was standing, watching around with a hard expression on his face. Ron narrowed his eyes at him and very warily moved closer around him, to an angle as close as feasible to the guard. Knowing there was only a very slim chance to succeed, and if not he would immediately be discovered, Ron inhaled deeply before taking out of his pocket a thin pea-shooter and looked around from an appropriate stone. When ready, the man took a better position behind the bushes, and after faithfully and strongly putting his lips to the star hanging from the chain around his neck and breathing a minute pray, he targeted very carefully and exhaled till his lungs hurt, shooting the sharp pebble straight to the guard’s forehead, causing his lost balance and eventual fall. Ron felt slightly optimistic with the sign, but without losing any of the time provided, after looking frantically around, he ran straight to the fallen guard, who was, fortunately, unconscious. Securing this temporary state, Ron kicked the man at the head and fast dragged him back to the bushes and from there, even further to the woods. Exhaling noisily so some of the tremble would go away, the redhead quickly took out from his small sack ropes and two kerchiefs. Throwing a disgusted glare to the lifeless Nazi, Ron begun taking off the guard’s clothes, leaving him only in underwear. Then, without wasting time, he tied one of the black pieces of fabric around the closed eyes, then the other around the tanned cheeks and forcefully into the mouth, securing his inability to shout. Fast enough, the ropes followed, which were tightly put around the body, immobilizing the limps almost to numbness. When the standing man made absolutely sure that the Nazi was completely pinned down, he started taking off his own clothes only to wear right away the guard’s suit. Once ready, Ron inspected for any flaw in his appearance, making sure his star was hidden under the many layers of clothing and that everything gave the air of self-importance he needed to adopt. For a second, his navy blue eyes glued on the red arm-band at his left arm, and at the black swastika in the white circle, and he instantly felt his blood getting boiling hot with wrath and his entire body shaking. His hands itched dangerously and he was ready to rip apart the hateful sign and set it on fire, but trying pitifully to reason himself to remain composed, he averted his eyes away from it, knowing that there wasn’t any other way. He took a couple of deep breaths before wearing the Monmouth cap and after spiting hatefully to the ground, he started as calmly as possible his way towards the building, trying hard to ignore the wildness of the heart and the rebirth of his growing dread.

Attempting to look as arrogant and indifferent as possibly feasible, he started to reach the gates with a straight back and measured steps. Fortunately, not having to face the inquisitiveness of a gate-guardian, he quickly opened the iron gate and stepped in, this time his knees trembling a bit. He started inhaling as deeply as possible through burning nostrils, ignoring poorly the numbness of the palms and the madness of the organ in his ribcage. It occurred to him once again, if this was an already lost battle; what if Hermione wasn’t there at all? And if she was there, how was he supposed to find her in this place? Eyes were surely everywhere, examining every movement, and the chances of escaping, either way, were impossibly slim. But no, _no_ , he had to think as positively as physically and emotionally achievable, he had to be strong and have faith…

_Have faith…_

“Halt!”                         

The sudden, angry voice startled Ron and he instantly felt a shiver passing through his long spine as he was turning around composed to face with a cool face the soldier that was surely coming closer to him. As the man with the raised weapon reached him, Ron straightened his back to a painful point, trying to manage a look as arrogant and icy as possible.

“Wer sind Sie und was wünschen Sie hier?” he barked and just then he seemed to observe the clothes the redhead was wearing, even though warily. Ron instantly hit his feet forcefully on the floor and his arm flew in the air, greeting the other with their particularly disgusting way. Ron was feeling his fingers numb and cramped as he let them stony and tightly close to each other, but he quickly put his arm back down and spoke strongly:

“Non sono Tedesco; io sto venendo da Roma.” ( _I’m not German; I’m coming from Rome._ ) At this, the soldier eyed him even more carefully, and after mumbling something unintelligible, he signed him with his hand to remain there and he quickly went away.

Ron, at the sight of the man gone, gulped down and tried to hastily weight his options: he knew that he hadn’t much time, and he really had to act drastically, but if he went away, he would surely be searched then, as he wouldn’t have followed the other’s order. The situation was uneasy and sent some shivers to his bones, while Ron could feel the coolness of his own sweat washing his entire back. Silently, he took huge doses of air inside him, attempting to tame the dreading feeling inside him, as well the tightness of his stomach. Not many moments passed till Ron eventually saw the same soldier coming towards him once again, this time along with a taller, certainly older man. The air around him, as well as the filthy thirst deep into his narrow eyes, told Ron that he was someone important there, that’s also why the younger one called him. At the observation, Ron swallowed hard once again, and tried as good as feasible, to act the same way.

When they finally reached him, the soldier hit his one foot to the ground and took a few steps backwards, remaining behind the older one. The second one though looked at Ron up and down, finally resting his narrow eyes on his face. For a moment, he seemed quite satisfied with what he was witnessing, though Ron couldn’t be sure why, and then gave his brutal greeting; Ron mimicked him quickly, with mock passion and faith lacing his Italian voice.

“Bei welcher Weise kann ich Ihnen helfen?” ( _With what way can I help you?_ ) the older Nazi told him in his perfect German, looking at the redhead with a look of attempted politeness. Ron once again was unable to realize what was said, so he once again told the very same words.

“Non sono Tedesco; io sto venendo da Roma.” At this particular phrase, the other man’s face took another expression, one of slight eagerness, and quickly nodded to him.

“Naturalmente, naturalmente, ci siamo detti a che un Capitano venisse, ma non eravamo informed che verreste dall'Italia.” ( _Of course, of course, we were told that a Captain would come, but we weren't informed that you would come from Italy._ ) he told formally with fluent Italian and at his words, Ron almost choked out. That… that was so bizarre! He tried not to show at all his vast rush of relief and mild shock due to of such unnamed luck, while he was nodding slightly for confirmation of the said words. The older man instantly nodded himself and gave his hand for a brief handshake before leading the way further into the building, with Ron next to him. For a minute moment, they remained silent, and the younger of the two tried as secretly as possible to calm the crazy heartbeats and pulse with soundless, deep breaths, all the while he was still trying to comprehend this totally unexpected moment of luck. He just really hoped with every cell of his existence that this was a sign of something better…

“Spero che la vostra corsa sia stata abbastanza bene” ( _I hope the travel was comfortable enough_ ) the older one started a chat that Ron didn’t expect at all, yet he quickly recovered so he could answer:

“Era soltanto bene, ma indovino che realizzate la situazione, signore; la mia identità ha dovuto rimanere nascosta anche a voi, dovuto i motivi comprensibili e mobili mentre però provando ad eliminare i ribelli irritante tristemente sta esaurendo.” ( _It was merely alright, but I guess that you do realize the situation, sir; my identity had to remain hidden even to you, due to reasons understandable, and travelling while also trying to get rid of annoying rebels is sadly exhausting_.) Ron said with a formal tone he didn’t know he possessed, while he also managed to seem pompously annoyed by the ‘ _trip’s bothers_ ’. The older man nodded while chuckling meanly, making as a result, a hot tightness appear in Ron’s stomach. Ignoring it completely, he continued to follow the Nazi to destination unknown, while he was also listening to his wicked words.

“Questo maledetto sempre i ribelli… Ma naturalmente, tutti conosciamo il destino di questa schiuma. Eppure, benchè, siano un bloccaggio ai nostri programmi, ma noi tutti deve contribuire in modo da questo potrebbe essere messo in un'estremità.” ( _Always these damned rebels... But of course, we all know the fate of this scum. Still, though, they are a blockage to our plans, but we all must contribute so this could be put to an end_.) he claimed seriously, a so evil spark glistering in his dark eyes, making Ron shuddering unnoticeably, but also nodding in what hoped to be a very agreeable way.

Then, they turned to a corner and before them was a door. Smirking cruelly, the Nazi unlocked the door and once again led the way, this time downstairs. Ron followed him carefully, hoping that whatever happened wouldn’t backfire for him and that it’d end soon enough, so he, somehow, would be able to totally focus on finding Hermione and rescue her. Suddenly, the fear of her not being there had vanished in him, and an instinct deep inside him mysteriously reassured him that she was somewhere there- at this, his heart skipped a beat.

“In qui, abbiamo raccolto qualche ribelli e gente che molto nasty abbiamo trovato intorno a questo nasconderci generale di zona.” ( _In here, we have collected some very nasty rebels and people we found around this general area hiding._ ) At this, Ron’s heart skipped more beats as his pulse quickened considerably and calmly he tried to inhale deeply while looking interested in the malicious facts. “Tutti sono _trattati benissimo,_ ” ( _They are all treated fine_ ) he laughed while emphasizing at the ironic two words that made the redhead’s skin to stand up at the uninvited imaged that entered in his head, “e stiamo consultandoli completamente prima di considerare l'più adatto puniamo- per ma naturalmente, conoscete troppo bene quello, Capitano.” ( _And we are interrogating them thoroughly before considering the most appropriate punish for them- but of course, you know that too well, Captain._ ) The last of words, even though they were followed shortly but a low chuckle, they still managed to affright Ron much, as in his head immediately flashed images of his torturous days back in Poland…

“Come usuale” ( _Like usual_ ) he answered back and nodded in a knowing way that seemed enough to the Nazi. Just then though, the man reached a long corridor, one side of which was covered in rusted, foul-looking bars… Ron could only easily imagine what these bars were holding behind…

Once again, the Nazi started guiding him around, explaining to him the way each and every one of the prisoners gained their position in a cell. This time, however, Ron wasn’t able to listen more than the crazy thumping of his hearts filling his ears. At every step he took, his palms would get sweatier from the growing agony, while his head would jerk constantly at the sight of a new cell, his pupil wide and anxious to take a glimpse at the petite, so familiar figure.

_Oh, God…_

“E quell'grazioso è stato trovato nascondersi in una foresta non lontano da qui” ( _And_ _that pretty one was found hiding in a forest not far from here._ ) the old man told while looking at the curled figure in the far corner of a tiny, grimy cell. At the distressing sight, Ron’s heart tightened, though not only because of that, but also due to the recognition. The second his eyes met the unruliness of the golden-brown locks, he knew without a hint of doubt that it was her… _It was really his Hermione…_

“È gradisce questa tutta la volta?” ( _Is she like this all the time?_ ) he asked quickly, his tone adopting an indifferent tone that loathed even himself, but tried to keep on his act as well as possible at the particular moment. The man seemed quite pleased that the _Capitano_ , at last, showed some interest in their captives, and with an evil smirk, he instantly started informing him, all the while the pair of dark blue eyes remained on the figure behind the bars… a figure, which at the sound of his voice, looked up.

If his heart had felt pain at the curled sight of hers, now it was surely burning, as he observed with unemotional face all the bruises that covered her face and arms. Ron could easily recognize the clothes she had been wearing during the very last time he had laid his eyes on her, though this time they were covered mostly in grime, or at least at any part of them that had still fabric. Her face was sickly pale, almost grey-tinted, and her eyes, always in his memory shiny and alive, now held only dullness and fear, feelings that seemed to eat her little by little. Her face was also bony, nowhere near that healthy, natural pureness could he remember, and the particular observation made him ache deep into his chest.

“Amperora, inizialmente era così selvaggio, ma abbiamo nostri sensi addomesticare i prigionieri…” ( _Ah, at first she was so wild, but we have our ways to tame the captives_...) he joked brutally and Ron dared to mimic his cold laugh for a second, fearing to look back at Hermione now mostly because of shame. “Non conosciamo il suo nome, ma siamo ragionevolmente sicuri che è Inglese” ( _We don't know her name, but we are fairly sure that she's English_.) he said then further, and Ron looked back at her with impassive eyes, seeing her brown eyes eventually looking up to his. At that moment, a faint gasp was audible and Ron tried really hard to remain composed and irresponsive to her reaction.

“Sembra come Inglese… torte sempre freddi…” ( _She seems like English… always cold tarts…_ ) he commented with an icy tone that hid too well his true believes about this very woman. His internal wound was burning from the suffering of the shame and the guilt, but he just hoped he’d be forgiven if he would manage to set her free. At the comment, the old man laughed whole-heartedly and Ron chanced another look back at his weak Hermione, who was staring at him with wide eyes that held bewilderment and uncertainty. The redhead also kept staring at her with his masked face, hoping with all his soul that despite this hateful cover, Hermione would still be able to make out his concern and his true intentions…

“Questo deve essere abbastanza assai, comunque…” ( _This one must be precious enough, though_...), the older male gave his opinion through dying fits of laughter and then continued his talking, this time more seriously: “Conoscete l'Inglese, Capitano?” ( _Do you know English, Captain?_ )

“Pochissimo, oso ammettere, benchè credi saldamente che questa lingua sia downright inutile e certamente muoia agli anni imminenti.” ( _Very little, I dare to admit, though I firmly believe that this language is downright useless and will surely die at the oncoming years._ ) Ron replied with false hatred dripping from his voice, hoping that his inevitable lies would make his act even more believable. The other man chuckle once more and with the tail of his eye, Ron could make out Hermione looking at the couple of them with perplexity and unease; he just wished this sickening act would end soon enough, so he could take her away from this aching situation.

“Anche se accosentirò con voi che questa lingua è hateful, non si dimentichi, Capitano, che è una lingua ampiamente usata… anche se quello può cambiare presto.” ( _Although I'll agree with you that this language is hateful, don't forget, Captain that it is a widely used language... even though that may change soon_.) Ron quickly nodded and then glanced once again at the vulnerable girl at the other side of the bars, quite unable to take his eyes off her. Then, the booming voice of the old Nazi brought him back to reality.

“Che cosa pensereste, Capitano, se gli aveste un momento con? Conoscendo l'Inglese, abbastanza utile a noi! Li pensate potreste spendere alcuno del vostro tempo che la interroga?” ( _What would you think, Captain, if you had a moment with her? Knowing English, it'll be quite useful to us! Do you think you could spend some of your time questioning her?_ ) he asked with raw eagerness lacing his voice, causing some trembling to the other man’s body. Once again, Ron couldn’t believe what he was hearing, considering it another sign of meager luck for both him and Hermione. Without looking at all at her in fears of betraying himself, he looked back at the other man with firm, cool determination and tight lips.

“È stata esaminata clinicamente? Non vorrei interferire una certa malattia.” ( _Was she clinically examined? I wouldn't like to catch some disease_.) he prolonged the unimportant conversation so he could seem more like those heartless bastards. When the other man gave his positive answer, also commenting that it’d be way too dangerous if they wouldn’t test all these people, Ron felt quite relieved for the answer and nodded sharply once before finally seeing the older one nodding with satisfaction and instantly going to a guard nearby. Ron noticed them talking a bit in German and then the guard hit his foot on the floor and quickly went towards him, taking out of his pocket a bunch of big, iron keys. Ron’s pulse intensified at the sight and his heartbeat quickened at the sound of metal on metal, at the unquestionable _click_ as the barred door was unlocked. The man then turned towards him, most probably waiting for another order, but Ron, unable to wait anymore, just dismissed him apathetically. His eyes followed him faithfully till he was sure he was away, and then, without one bit of hesitation, he slide in the tiny cell, looking for the very first time at Hermione with his true eyes.

She, at the sight of the guard coming closer, had moved back fearfully, and at the moment she was gazing up at Ron with glassy eyes. When finally inside, her arms embraced her body tightly, her brown eyes never leaving him from their sight.

“R-Ron?”

Her croaky whisper woke up every little cell of his body, and despite the little, dull soreness he felt because of the sound of her pained voice, the reassurance it held because she was alive washed him like a bucket of cold, refreshing water.

He suddenly felt so cleansed, despite the dirt that surrounded him.

He gently put a finger on his lips, signing to her that they should be silent, and then he glanced behind his shoulder, checking if the soldier was still out of earshot and sight. Then, with one long, desperate stride, he was right before her, only some air separating them, but that didn’t really matter. His crystal blue eyes bored into hers with neither difficulty nor care, but only with this immortal sentiment of love that filled him soothingly. His hands, without thinking, went up to her face, cupping her cheeks with utter affection and tenderness, his thumbs caressing the softness of the pale skin like they wanted to. He noticed, with a feeling of great glee, that some of the light reappeared in her dark eyes and he smiled unconsciously, knowing that this was what he exactly wanted: being with her and keeping away from her any harm.

“Oh, Hermione…” he breathed with respect and softness in his voice that made the woman before him to sigh with what seemed to be relief. Her hands then moved so they could cup his own ones, and despite the slight coldness of the skin, Ron felt warmer than he had felt during all the previous week without her. A tiny, weary smile surfaced on her lips that made him happier and for a moment all he could do was staring and touching her, still not able to think of anything else but the release of his soul by watching again alive.

“I promise I protect you forever,” he eventually told her as he took her in his arms, needing to feel her presence as close to his as physically possible at the moment. As his lips tingled with craving, he chanced a sweet kiss on her forehead, feeling the peace nesting in his heart.

“It’s dangerous,” he listened to her muffled response and pull back so he could look at her face. Her characteristics were stained with terror and alarm and at the heartbreaking sight, Ron’s hand instantly stroked her face, shooing away the wrinkles of her fright.

“I know,” he said back with serious eyes and almost inaudible voice, “but we must try, because then we gain freedom.”

The words seemed to have an effect on her as her mouth opened slightly and her eyes glued on his with a quite surprised gleam in them. Another moment was spent in comfortable silence, during which Ron was stealing fearful glances behind his back, securing that the guard was still away.   

“I really missed you… I couldn’t help but think of you and Luna all the time” Hermione whispered and she leaned a bit closer to his body, her head lightly resting on his torso. Ron kissed her temple soothingly while stroking her curls kindly, understanding perfectly how she was feeling all this time.

“I done the same” he whispered back and his one arm curled around her shoulders, hugging her tighter. He inhaled then deeply, trying to recapture her scent in his lungs, taking as much of hers inside him as possible. But then, something drew him back to reality, and he fast pulled back again, looking deeply into her watery eyes.

“We need to go” he told her firmly as he was caressing her trembling knuckles with what hoped to be reassurance and after another gentle stroke and a stolen, chaste kiss on the lips (one that managed to bring a new force to the blood in his veins), he stood up, his eyes never daring to leave hers. “Remember, I love you… if anything happen, try to save you”

“I l-love you, too, Ron… and the same goes to you; if anything happens, you just go and secure your own safety, alright?” Hermione asked fearfully, yet with some of her strong determination back in her voice. Ron nodded once, even though he knew he couldn’t ever just leave without securing her wellbeing first. Then, he took inside a lungful of air before exiting the cell and slowly and soundlessly heading towards the guard. Praying for the best, he stood just behind the oblivious guard, and just before he was about to turn around, he hit him hard in the head and let him fall noisily on the floor. Without wasting time, he quickly ran to the stairs, and after making sure no one was there, he went back to Hermione, helping her out of her own personal hell and out in the corridor. With the aid of his hand, Ron took her and fast ran once more towards the stairs, every once in a while glancing next to him to make sure that Hermione was alright. Climbing up the stairs, although easy enough, made Ron’s heart pace wilder, most probably in fear of what would possibly wait behind that wooden door at the top.

The door, fortunately, was unlocked, and the redhead hastily opened it, frantically looking around first before exiting with Hermione closely behind. Finding a key on the lock, Ron thought about locking it, an action that might gain them some more valued time. However, the sound of the locking door was closely followed by a deafening sound that scared both of them.

_Alarms were on…_

Both sets of eyes widened with horror as they were looking at each other, silently communicating for a millisecond. _Somehow they know_ , both pairs screamed, yet whimpered, but Ron, knowing that time was now against them, just took her hand tightly in his and started running, understanding that there was no other way.

An incomprehensible chaos ensued in the building, as most of the people tried to realize what was going on and why the alarming mechanisms were on; that was a minor advantage for the escaping couple, as through the fuss, many didn’t second-thought the running in the corridors. Ron felt his heart almost out of his chest and shooting pains already probing at his ribs, but the thought of Hermione and him getting caught, he tried to push aside any personal hurt and squeezed the brunette’s hand strongly, reminding her silently that he was still here and that he would never leave her side.

_He would never leave her side; now, even Death couldn’t tear them apart…_

“Verfangen Sie sich ihn! Er ist der Eindringling!” ( _Catch him! He's the invader!_ ) shouts could be heard from around them, and from the corner of his eye, Ron was able to see fingers pointing at them while desperately running; now, their running match became an obstacle race, with fatal consequences for the possible losers…

Turning hastily to a corner to secure some seconds due to abruptness, Ron unfortunately, came almost face to face with the old Nazi man that escorted him inside the building; upon seeing him, the man gave Ron a wicked smile and reached him while the younger man stood there frozen from fear, putting Hermione behind him.

“Andando in qualche luogo, _Capitano_?” ( _Going somewhere, Captain?_ ), he asked with malicious politeness and made Ron’s blood freeze from the fear of any possible outcome, “Siete arrivato appena ed abbiamo avuti non il onore per accomodarlo ancora.” ( _You've just arrived and we hadn't the honour to accommodate you yet._ ) With that, the man grabbed Ron’s forearm painfully hard, and even though his wince, the redhead stared back at him with narrowed eyes full of fury. Then, without knowing what made him do it (maybe his survival instincts or his great desire for freedom), he spat at the man’s face and kneeled him between his legs strongly, causing the man to double over in pain. Ignoring his yells, Ron swiftly took Hermione and ran away once again, trying to escape from the hell surrounding them. Seeing all the soldiers and guards chasing them, the man felt dizzy, though he kept going, making sure that the woman was always besides him. When he sensed that one was very close to grabbing Hermione, Ron took off the cap from his head and threw it forcefully on his face; luckily enough some edge hit him straight in the eye. Then, he also took off the offending suit with the arm-band and let it fall on the floor behind them, hoping that someone would trip on it.

_Let us escape; just let us get the freedom we seek…_

Finally finding the exit from the building, Ron found new power inside him to keep going and quickly reaching it, he pushed Hermione in front of him, letting her pass through first. Then, he hurriedly closed the door and continued his race non-stop, the constant sight of an alive, running Hermione before him gave the support to his heart to keep pumping in his ribs, to his lungs the eagerness to keep accepting oxygen inside.

He had to keep his eyes on her, otherwise he could foretell his miserable fate…

Yells once again were audible in the air, making the eardrums throbbing unbearably. But then, all these barks were accompanied by other sounds…

_Those of guns._

Ron’s heart stopped beating for a bit at the deafening echoes of the firing, his blood now flowing cold in the mere prospect of a bullet even grazing Hermione’s innocent skin. His eyes searched for her frantically so he would be reassured that she was alright; the running form of hers nearing the open, iron gate made him feel slightly calmer, but at the whirl of worrying sentiments, he didn’t realize that he had merely stopped running…

A bang worse than the others broke the minute silence and Hermione’s heart once again clenched with agony. Now, though, at the feeling of the gate being closer and closer to them, she could sense somehow a bit lighter, only a tiny bit…

“AHHHHHH!” a so sudden scream filled the air around her, making every ounce of air leaving her body. Her eyes looked back fearfully and… and the sight was surely one of utter fright…

Ron was some meters behind and seemed rooted on the spot. His face was extremely white, drown of any colour, which seemed to have appeared on his white shirt… His left shoulder was stained in vivid red colour that made her spine shudder and her heart almost unable to keep beating inside her. She saw him doubling a bit over in pain, still wailing from the surely burning sensation the bullet caused to his lean body. For a moment, she too remained motionless, unable to register a thing despite Ron’s ache… and what if…?

“RUN!” she was abruptly brought back to reality by Ron’s cries, his voice laced with excruciating pain and firm willpower, “RUN!” he repeated and he himself started running as well, only this time with less strength and more dizziness. Hermione did what was said and widely opened the gate before hurriedly taking a few strides to reach the wounded man and resuming run with him, only this time with reversed roles. Being totally careful to escape from any sort of blockage or other difficulties, she headed them both to the woods, ignoring the loud thudding noise of her pulse in her ears and wishing wholeheartedly that they wouldn’t get caught…

_Just let us savour the freedom we hunger after…_

The running and the gasping never ceased torturing them, and despite the clenching of her heart, Hermione kept running, only in hopes of liberty. With her ears, she tried desperately to catch any sound; the yells and the very few shoots were gradually fading, though a constant panting right behind her was only getting heavier, hoarser and much more intense, instantly triggering her greatest levels of anxiety. Looking behind, she saw the chalky complexion of Ron’s, the rivulets of sweat damping his face sickly, as his eyelids remained half-open with difficulty…

“Ron, please! Stay awake; you have to remain awake!” she cried out with concern dripping from the voice; however, the exclamation little managed.

“Her… Hermione… f-from… th-there…” Ron panted with pain underlining his every word or motion, as he was weakly pointing towards the east. Hermione instantly ran some more and dragged Ron behind a very large tree trunk. There, she put his back on the rough surface, letting him rest, while her hands travelled to his face, making him look down at her with barely open eyes.

“Please Ron, look at me… What did you mean?” she whispered uneasily, every now and then glancing at the huge, scarlet stain on the left side of his cloth. Ron just shook his head.

“T-Towards… there… t-to the road…” he only managed to gasp, but the pleading look in his glassy eyes made her have no objection or doubts; after taking once again his cold, sweaty hand, she cautious ran towards east, as Ron had said, until, half an hour later at most, she spotted the road. A look towards the headquarters showed her that, fortunately, no one was out there, chasing or waiting for them; however, the stillness and the exhausting hotness of the noon’s sun made the place totally wrong for their situation… and the still open sore on Ron’s shoulder made her heart sink deeper into despair…

Out of nowhere, Hermione’s sight was filled with a medium-sized, grey truck that surely came towards them. Hermione right away felt panic rise inside her and her blood freeze, knowing that now there was surely no escape. With the almost dead weight of her half-conscious love at her side, she tried to take a turn and run back inside the forest, even though whoever was inside the vehicle had witnessed their presence there. Not really managing to take a couple of dragged strides, till she heard a loud, quite unidentified noise and then, she felt a tight, firm grasp on her forearm. Trying manically to escape from the grip, Hermione started shouting only to be shortly stopped by a calloused hand that was covering her mouth. Her heart beat wilder than ever before and at the feeling of her left hand no more holding Ron’s she felt dizzy and numb.

_No, not him, he’s weak and innocent like a child… He suffered a lot and he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve this… If You have to take one, take me, but not him, not him…_

Unconsciously, she let some tears fall from her shut eyes and then, the grip on her arm became gentler as it led her inside the truck. When the light became considerably less, and her ears were filled with the groans of a quite old car-machine, she opened hesitantly her eyes; what she witnessed was entirely unexpected and a great cause of gasp.

Despite Ron, who was lying on the floor of the trunk with a relieved expression on his face, there were two other people with them: a woman with striking blonde hair and beautiful face wearing a white robe, as well a tall man next to her with long, fiery-red hair and blue eyes…

“Who are you?” she asked warily, not completely sure if they were people to be trusted, despite the much calmer pace of the heart. Then, both sets of eyes travelled to her, observing her with good-natured looks. But when the woman was about to reply, another, croaky gasp eventually broke the silence.

“W-William?” Ron asked through his dazed state, causing all pair of eyes to travel back to him.

“Yes” the woman next to Ron replied gently with her French accent and Hermione instantly felt a rush of warmth and relief crushing almost everything bad or dark inside her.

“Are you Ron’s brother, right?” Hermione asked only for confirmation and the nod of his made her feel slightly lighter, but much more confused and curious.

“And I’m Fleur, William’s wife” the blonde beauty spoke gently, introducing herself to Hermione. The brunette nodded quickly and then her eyes travelled back to Ron, her questions swiftly fading from her mind to inexistence, her worry prevailing.

“How do you feel?” she whispered with shaking voice and shifted her body next to his, taking then gently his head so it could rest more comfortably on her lap. At the motion, Ron's eyes opened slightly, looking at her tiredly.

“We are safe, right?” he breathed faintly and then winced slightly. Hermione’s hand instantly shot up and touched his face, stroking his cheek and hair with what hoped to be smoothness and reassurance.

“Of course, your brother, William, and Fleur are here,” she explained to him gently.

“Carlo iz driving, as well,” Fleur further informed them and the name seemed to shake Ron a bit for some reason; he opened his eyes a bit more and looked frantically at both Fleur and William.

“Carlo?” he asked hoarsely and then without waiting for an answer, he asked: “Where Luna?”

“With my parents,” Fleur replied gently as she then started very carefully to take off Ron’s shirt, while William opened from next to her a large first aid kit. “She iz much better”

“What happened to Luna?” Hermione suddenly asked, afraid that the worst would happen to the lovely girl.

“Got sick,” William told her with his broken English as he was helping his wife with her work; now, Ron was turned around on his stomach, and a nasty, open wound was right in front of them, staring ahead proudly. At the sight, Hermione’s felt her stomach churning uncomfortably and hurriedly averted her eyes from it, instead looking down at Ron’s profile. For a moment she remained still, suddenly very calm inside due to his merely peaceful expression. Her fingers tangled with his golden-reddish locks and her nails soothingly scratched his scalp. A moment later, Ron slowly opened his eyes and tiredly rolled them up so they could rest on her face. The image of those brilliant, so innocent eyes made her heart flutter and then, the sensation of his familiar fingers searching blindly for her hand brought her a new feeling of tranquility. She took his hand and intertwined ever so slowly her fingers with his, because time didn’t matter now for them. Gradually, Ron took their bonded hands and brought them near his face, his lips grazing her skin adoringly.

“I love you…” he breathed with all his emotion colouring this precious sentence. Giving him a smile she was only glad to give him once again, she answered back lovingly:

“I love you too.” At this, Ron managed a tiny smile and wearily closed his eyes, probably too worn out to do more than swim in the bliss his senses were bringing to him abundantly.

And as Hermione Granger felt the silkiness of his sandy locks between her tingled fingers, and as she felt his soft, balmy breaths cherishing her skin every other second, she knew that even though the war was still unfinished, her heart had found the full meaning of peace next to Ron.

Because, even though they had been in the midst of hell, they managed to build up their own, everlasting paradise.                                           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was all! Hope you all liked this little story as much as I've liked writing it back then! Feel free to leave your comments, and, hopefully, more to come soon! :) 
> 
> Have a nice day you all! Cheers!


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